Skyrim Adventures
by Furiouswind
Summary: A series of short one-shots describing the adventures of a group of over-powered heroes through Skyrim and through their weird and eccentric attics, may very well end up saving Tamriel, or destroying it. Not meant to be taken seriously.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: So this is one reason why I haven't finished my other fics. Too busy with this.

I started out with funny ideas on jokes and stuff about Skyrim. I had one for Oblivion but the jokes were mainly against the game's programming. In Skyrim, there are certainly jokes to poke fun at with the programming but the story itself is filled with things that I'm sure everyone knows about. Like say... "Arrow to the knee". While I will use that joke, I'll probably limit the number of times I use it. It's too overused it's not funny anymore.

Anyway, this story is meant to be poking fun at the different things in the game that I'm sure the developers put in for a reason. Others... well, it's just me that's having fun. As this story is not really meant to be serious, you don't need to point out every mistake I've made.

This fic is broken down into Point-of-View narratives of the different characters that I have introduced below. Each chapter will be from another character's point of view and will keep switching. It is not a 1st person narrative so it **WILL **get confusing if you're not paying attention. It is structured as very short one-shots with their individual plots but with the same characters.

Although I did say that this is meant to be like a series of one-shots, there is an underlying plot that will be revealed as I write more.

The characters may seem out of place but bear with me on this. This isn't meant to be a serious story. Have fun.

* * *

**Skyrim Adventures**

**Chapter 1**

**The stuff of Legends**

**Dragonborn / Dovahkiin**

_Race_: Nord

_Gender_: Male

_Class_: Dragonborn

_Standing Stone_: The Lord

_Skills_:

All

(One handed and Block in particular)

_Speciality_:

Shouting

Mysterious luck

Curious nature

_Notes_: Although his speciality is shouting, he is a rather quiet person. Seems to be on some sort of quest all the time that may or may not have any relevance to his original plans. Easily side tracked and wanders into caves and dungeons without hesitation. As though the stars are aligned wherever he goes, the Dragonborn is always at the right place at the right time to help people with requests.

**Sylvian**

_Race_: Elf (?)

_Gender_: Female

_Class_: Elf Ranger

_Standing Stone_: The Lady

_Skills_:

Marksmanship

Sneak

Alchemy (The eating portion)

_Speciality_:

Dual wield

Blending into forests

Summoning animals

_Notes_: An Elf that came from an unknown place outside of Tamriel in search for something. Her race does not look like the Elves of Tamriel at all but rather like young humans. Their skills are very much akin to Wood Elves. Met the Dragonborn outside of Helgen and nearly shot him out of surprise. Travels with him now. Very oblivious to social norms in Skyrim.

**Sigfrid Nibelung**

_Race_: Nord

_Gender_: Male

_Class_: Companion Harbinger

_Standing Stone_: Warrior

_Skills_:

Two Handed

Heavy Armour

Smithing

_Speciality_:

Werewolf

OCD

_Notes_: As the new harbinger for the companions, Sigfrid is quite strict about keeping up appearances. Although he is a werewolf, he is also a very naggy person when it comes to cleanliness. Most of the Companions call him the 'Nag' but hold respect for both his leadership and his skills. Contrary to what people may think, he is unable to hold down his liquor.

**Thayran**

_Race_: High Elf / Breton mix (3/4 Mer)

_Gender_: Female

_Class_: Archmage

_Standing Stone_: Mage

_Skills_:

Destruction

Alteration

Conjuration

Alteration

Restoration (Bad at it despite being Master level)

_Speciality_:

VERY POWERFUL

Small size

Book worm

_Notes_: As the Archmage, she has tremendous power in Magic but her character is not someone befitting the Archmage. Tends to lose her temper easily and her forte is Destruction magic. As a half mix of two magically attuned species, her skills are no joking matter. She looks very much like a Breton, but her ears are elvish. She accidentally caused an explosion when she failed an alchemic reaction (she is very bad at potions), and it caused her body to revert back into her younger days. More specifically, into the body of her 14 year old self. Her mind is still that of her old self. She has remained like that for a long time to the point many think she may never age again. She is extremely disorganized, leading to Sigfrid to scold her often

**Kevex**

_Race_: Dark Elf

_Gender_: Male

_Class_: Thief Guild Master / Nightingale

_Standing Stone_: Thief

_Skills_:

Sneak

Lockpick

Pick-pocket

Illusion

Speechcraft

_Speciality:_

Observant eye

Analytic mind

_Notes_: As a thief, the Guild master no less, Kevex has the ability to discern the mechanics of traps, layout of dungeons and has the ability to plot out strategies to easily overcome obstacles. Also has the bad habit of scavenging every nook and cranny, be it chest, burial urns, book shelves or cooking pots in search for loot even in the midst of a fight or with imminent death staring at him in the face. A smooth talker as well as a quick hand had gotten him out of trouble more times than people bother to remember. He tends to attempt to carry more loot than he is able to, leading others to either help him carry his loot, or just ignore him.

**Alexia**

_Race_: Imperial

_Gender_: Female

_Class_: Assassin / Listener

_Standing Stone_: Shadow

_Skills_:

Sneak

Illusion

Lockpick

One handed

_Speciality:_

Sudden disappearance / appearance

One hit kill

Blending into crowds / shadows

Sleeping anywhere

_Notes_: For an Assassin as well as the dark brotherhood's listener, Alexia tends to sleep too often. Not very attentive and clearly not focused most of the time, she seems less harmless than a rabbit. However looks can be deceiving as she is known to kill her targets so quickly and silently that even the victims died without knowing what happened. She has been known to wear clothing not found in the Dark Brotherhood's wardrobe, saying something like 'Great assassins wear white'. Has been known to kill targets even before the Night Mother had told her about them. Likes cute and furry things.

* * *

_Others_:

**Thanes of the Nine Holds**

_Notes_: There are nine Thanes of each hold and each are as quirky as the next. They seem to sense that the Dovahkiin is someone they need to assist and thus lend aid to him whenever possible.

**M'kuir**

_Race_: Khajhit

_Gender_: Male

_Class_: Merchant / Adventurer

_Skills_:

Speechcraft

Sneak

One handed

Light Armour

_Speciality_:

Bargaining

Fence

Discerning prices

_Notes_: A face that all in the group know and holds a complicated relationship with them. Joining the group at times and other times just going separately. Acts like an information broker most of the time.

**Orgranar**

_Race_: Orc

_Gender_: Male

_Class_: Blacksmith / Chef (?)

_Skills_:

Blacksmith

Heavy armour

_Speciality_:

Cooking

_Notes_: As an Orc, Orgranar's prowess in battle is nothing to laugh at, however he had always believed himself to have a higher calling. Coming to Skyrim in search of the legendary 'Gourmet', he wanders from hold to hold, offering up dishes that he cooked himself. While most of his dishes do not look appetizing, or indeed edible, the taste is guaranteed. He is a master craftsman by trade and makes the weapons and armour to whoever can afford them. He also does seem to be very good at sewing and knitting.

**Akbiran**

_Race_: Red Guard

_Gender_: Female

_Class_: Mercenary

_Skills_:

One handed

Block

Two Handed

_Speciality_:

Getting Lost

_Notes_: A fiery young woman from Hammerfell in search of worthy opponents to challenge. After being soundly defeated by almost every member of the group, she decided to that she will continue to follow them until she can defeat them. However as her ability to get lost is on a near Godly level, she can never keep up with them and usually just meets them on the road or in a city by chance.

**Krushash Hard Scale**

_Race_: Argonian

_Gender_: Male

_Class_: Monk (?)

_Skills_:

Illusion

Lockpick

_Speciality_:

Determination / Stubbornness

_Notes_: A young Argonian who fancies himself as a Priest of Mara though most Priests would reject that claim. Wearing an amulet of Mara, Krushash constantly looks for 'partners' though most, if not all, turn him down. Envies the Dragonborn a whole lot. Though he is constantly asking people to marry him (be they male or female), he swore his one true love to be Sylvian. Due to her level of naivety, she mainly assumes he is being kind and treats him like a friend, much to his chagrin and to the amusement of the others.

**Prefect Romulus Maximus Tyrannius**

_Race_: Imperial

_Gender_: Male

_Class_: Legion Prefect

_Skills_:

Heavy Armour

One Handed

Block

_Speciality_:

Unwavering Loyalty

_Notes_: A young Prefect sent to Skyrim from the Citadel to reinforce the Legion's efforts to 'quell' the rebellion. Talented and brave, Prefect Romulus symbolizes what every Legion soldier must strive to be although his determination and near obnoxious level of loyalty to the Empire are rather nauseating. Holds a strong rivalry with the Stormcloak Lieutenant, Sigrud Wintershield. Though constantly strives to challenge Sigrud in battle, has never actually intended to kill her.

**Lieutenant Sigrud Wintershield**

_Race_: Nord

_Gender_: Female

_Class_: Stormcloak Lieutenant

_Skills_:

Heavy Armour

Two Handed

_Speciality_:

Undying determination

_Notes_: A young Lieutenant under the Stormcloak rebel Army. Her prowess on the battlefield won her many commendations and earned her place as one of Ulfric Stormcloak's top Lieutenants. She proudly preaches the freedom of the Nords and isn't afraid to butt heads with anyone who doesn't agree with her. Holds a strong rivalry with the Legion Prefect, Romulus Maximus Tyrannius. Though constantly strives to challenge Tyrannius in battle, has never actually intended to kill him.

* * *

Sitting by the camp fire, he warmed his hands against the embers, feeling slightly rejuvenated despite the harsh winds and winter snow. He looked up as a new comer approached the fire and joined him by sitting down next to him. Was the scouting done already? Or was it time to change guard duties? He did not really know nor did he actually bother to think too deeply into it. With the sky covered with the thick clouds of snow, he wondered when would the Sun show itself again? Or would he be forced to warm himself only through more camp fires throughout this journey?

More newcomers came and joined him around the camp fire, each and every one of them different from the next. It was to be expected. They had all come together from very different backgrounds, all coming together for no rhyme nor reason. They did not hold similar goals, or interest. Yet there was something mysterious that bound them all together like this. The slight crackle of the fire signalled him to pick up a thick stick and poked the embers, stoking the flames to keep it alive.

"Hey, Mage, can't you use a fire spell or something?"

One of the newcomers asked with his dead-like-tone. The smallest of the group turned to him and raised her hand, showing a rather offensive finger at the one who asked the question with a tiny flame dancing at the tip of her finger.

"Why don't I burn you to a crisp, you damn thief. If it weren't for you trying to steal from that inn keeper's stores, we wouldn't be out here in the damn cold in the first place!"

The thief in question raised his hands in defence.

"Hey, I can't help myself if I see something so valuable before my eyes."

The thief smirked, his eyes slowing travelling downwards-

"Keep your damn hands to yourself!"

"Well, my hands aren't doing anything, and yours doesn't have much to look at anyway."

"Die."

While the two started to duke it out (though it was more like a chase involving knives and fire balls), he looked to the others around the camp fire. The silent man sitting by the fire across from him, slowly sharpening his sword with a rock and constantly inspecting it. The sleeping woman who rested her head against a boulder and just dozed off without missing a heart beat. And finally, pulling her hood back, the young elf who sat beside him. To call her an elf would be slightly misleading as she is unlike any elf he had seen before. That would be a given since she wasn't from Tamriel in the first place.

Her facial features lacked the sharpness of the Elves common in Tamriel, being rounder like a Breton's, her eyes sharing that's of an Imperial but her ears were a dead give-away. Being longer and thinner than other elves, her ears seemed to hold some special characteristic of being able to pick up sound from extremely far away. With her blonde silky long hair and clear blue eyes, she was quite the looker by almost all standards across the land. Unfortunately she did not seem understand some things in this foreign land. And that led to several weird occurrences. In particular, her dressing. But that can be talked about at a later date. She turned to him, her eyes twinkling with curiosity.

"Is there something you need?"

She asked somewhat eagerly. He shook his head in a simple gesture of reply. She looked back to the fire with a slightly disappointed look on her face. Well, there would be days like this as well, doing nothing, camping out in the wilderness, the occasional bandit encounter and everything in between. But he had to wonder, how exactly did it all come down to this? This strange gathering of people from all over Skyrim. How and why did they come together and venture forth as a group like this? They were all so different, led different lives and yet still they had been able to find one another and as a group, set off in search of adventure. Or something more. The elf suddenly looked up, her ears slightly twitching. She jumped to her feet, alerting the others as she drew her bow.

"It's coming."

She said firmly as a loud thunderous roar echoed from the distance. All knew what that was and drew their weapons in preparation for what was to come. The steel swordsman of the Companions, Sigfrid, drew his large great sword. The small sized Mage of the college, Thayran, clenched her fists as flames enveloped them. The slightly burnt thief of the Guild, Kevex, drew his twin daggers. Waking up groggily, the assassin of the brotherhood, Alexia, drew her sword laced with poison. The elf from a foreign land, Sylvian, notched her arrow and drew her bow. As for himself, he drew his sword and readied his shield. It wasn't long before it came. Bursting through the clouds with its large scaled wings, the giant beast roared out, causing the entire ground the shake as it flew dangerously low over head.

"This one doesn't seem friendly."

"And since when were they ever?"

"Watch out! Here it comes!"

"Dragon!"


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Each character is meant to represent that aspect in which they come from. I.e. The Dragonborn is a Nord male who always wears the Iron full armour, because the trailer and the box covers show that. This Elf, as I had described in the introductory chapter, is a 'foreign' elf. By that I mean she does not exist in the Elder Scrolls universe. You can take an Elf from most other games and books and she will be the representation of that.

Actually, she is meant to represent MODS. Any mods that appeared online for Skyrim is represented by her. The so-called 'beauty', the 'powerful bow', the custom crafted 'swords', everything about her is meant to represent the online community and their contributions to the game through their mods. So she is one messed up character.

* * *

**Skyrim Adventures**

**Chapter 2**

**Pointy Ears**

"Hm?"

She looked up, her long ears twitching slightly. Could it be? She strained her ears slightly in the direction she thought she heard something.

.

.

.

Nope, nothing.

"Must be my imagination."

She muttered, turning back to her original path through this half caved-in tunnel. Why did she accept this stupid quest in the first place? Find a lost pendant? Go find it yourself!

"In the first place, what was that girl thinking? Dropping her pendant in such a dangerous place?"

She wondered, picking up a small rock that obstructed her path and placed it by the side.

"Hmm... I wonder why did I agree to do this?"

She asked herself a very good question. One that she did not bother to question a few hours ago when she was walking along the streets of Solitude biting into her meat pie. The group had taken a rest in Solitude, each going about to do their own things. Sigfrid was off to the Solitude training barracks to learn some new moves though in most cases he would be there scolding the recruits on how to swing a sword properly. Thayran was probably at the Blue Palace arguing with the court wizard on certain theories of spells. As for Kevex... Well, he could be found sneaking around looking for things to steal. That dark elf never fails to try to steal something, even with a draugr breathing down his face. Alexia was... well, she would be the same as Kevex, sneaking around the place, only for whole other reasons that would not be too good to know about. But strangely Alexia never claimed to kill anyone innocent, something about 'unholy retribution' or something. Not that she had any idea what was that all about. As for the last member of the group... where did he go? She did not really know. He sort of disappeared after they went into Solitude. But besides him, she was eating a nice meat pie from the market and she noticed a kid acting out of place by the side of the main district. And...

"That is how I ended up with this quest."

She muttered to no one in particular. Well, since no one else wanted to join her, she had to do this on her own. Alexia would have joined her but that assassin had disappeared like always. Thayran would be... not a good choice for a such a delicate quest. Sigfrid was more or less into his 'Nagging Spartan Mother' mode and scolding the recruits in the Solitude barracks about how to clean their teeth or something along those lines. Kevex was currently spending some time in jail. Give him two or three minutes and he should be out. The illegal way of course. So in the end she came by herself. Well, it wasn't as though she couldn't do stuff like these on her own. Before joining with the group, she had travelled alone and she had managed quite well on her own.

"... Friends... huh..."

Since when did she become so attached to being in a group? Before she knew it, she came to enjoy the crazy antics of each member of the group. Sigfrid, though annoying with his constant nagging and need for perfection, was a great source of comfort for food and cleaning. He was also very reliable in battle. Thayran, despite being explosive in nature and small in stature, was a reliable source of knowledge for just about anything, not to mention she was always willing to listen to any problems or complains others had. Whether she would get irritated from doing all that listening or not was a separate issue. Kevex-... well, Kevex probably did have some good points, just a little too hard to see. Probably. Alexia was... Well, Alexia was like a ghost, with the group but also somewhat not with the group. She was a great fighter and an excellent person to learn the many small survival skills, however as a person... there was much to Alexia that was not known and perhaps no one will ever know.

"... Hm?"

Her ears twitched once more. Footsteps. This time there was no mistaking it. She wasn't alone. She spotted a small crack in the wall, just small enough for someone of her stature to slip in. Squeezing inside, she waited. The footsteps were getting louder and louder with each passing second. And sure enough, walking pass the small hole she hid within were two large tough looking men carrying what seemed to be... a body?

"Sheesh, that last raid was pointless."

One of the men said, stopping almost right outside the hole she was hiding in. Why did these guys always stop near where she was hiding?

"Hey, our leader said it should be holding more gold."

The other said.

"Yeah, but it wasn't. Do you think the leader is getting the wrong information these days?"

"Are you doubting our leader?"

"N-no! But... I mean, the last few raids also had nothing! Only women, children and some fruits and vegetables. Ever since the leader cut ties with the Thieves Guild, we've been getting fewer and fewer loot."

The other man sighed, scratching his head slightly.

"Well, I guess you're right. But best not to say it to our leader. He can get pretty upset easily. But as the boss said, if the raid had nothing, kidnap and hold ransom. That should bring in some gold."

"I guess so. Oh yeah, did Rogra reset the traps?"

"He did, so watch where you walk. The... second left turn, if I remember."

And they just loudly said that. Well, they wouldn't know that she was hiding in this hole so it was alright. She guessed. So now a search quest has become a search AND rescue quest. What an interesting turn of events.

"Hey, what happened to that pendant you found the other day?"

"Hm? Oh, leader found it so he decided to keep it for himself. Well, not that it was a very nice pendant anyway."

And with that, this is now just a rescue mission. No need to any more searching. The two men walked off their their hostage and as soon as their footsteps disappeared in the distance, she climbed out of her hiding hole.

"Hmm.. strange how coincidental this all works... Now I know how 'he' feels."

She muttered to herself.

"Hmm... Second left turn huh?"

She wasn't exactly an expert on traps, that being Kevex's and Alexia's area of speciality, but she wasn't the type to simply walk straight into one either. She wasn't Sigfrid. Despite being so uptight about neat and orderly, he seems to blindly walk into traps like nobody's business. Anyway, back to business. She carefully made her way deeper into the tunnel, following the two bandits through a sort of hidden portion of the tunnel that branched off from the original caved-in part. Why didn't she notice this earlier? Carefully tiptoeing her way through, she peeked around a band in the tunnel and spotted a bandit standing there in the middle of the tunnel with his back facing her. What was he doing just standing there? Stoning? She strained her ears slightly. No one was near by. Maybe she could take this bandit out by sneaking in close and taking him out with her dagger? But she was out of her element, the forest. If it was the thick lush forest, she could easily take out twenty men without raising any alarms in five minutes flat. Not that she was bragging or anything. But how to deal with this? She guessed she had no choice, besides, there was something amiss with this sentry guard. And that something was nagging at her badly. She reached to her quiver and pulled out an arrow, notching it and drawing the bow string back. Her bow was a special bow that she brought from her home land, crafted to be sleek, smooth and longer than any bow used in Tamriel, it had a certain aspect to it that was unique.

"..."

She silently aimed her shot before releasing it. The body fell with only a soft thud into the dirt. She walked over to the body and squatted down, studying the bandit she just killed with the arrow through his head. She noticed a certain tattoo on his head but then again, all bandits look the same to her. Sometimes she just wonders if she was killing the same person over and over again. She reached over and searched his pockets, finding some coins, some fresh food (though who knows why they carry such things around in the first place), and a note. Curiosity got the better of her as she unfolded the letter.

"Let's see... 'This week's haul was useless' blah blah blah 'prisoner in the third cell needs feeding' blah blah blah 'Boss not happy'. Hmm, wonder where do these bandits learn to write? And they all probably went to the same place to learn since their hand writings are all the same."

She muttered, getting back up to her feet and pocketing the note. She slowly made her way through the dark tunnels, her next arrow notched and ready to be fired at any moment. It wasn't long before she heard loud noises up ahead, she slowly made her way towards the source and peeking around the bend, she found the source. The main cavern hall of this cave had bandits all over the place. Most were drinking themselves to sleep or eating the meat fresh from the fire. She eyes scanned the entire cavern carefully. Twenty three bandits, not including the chief who was at the far end on his grand throne-like chair and... the prisoner. A young female Imperial, by the look of things. She did not look any older than sixteen winters. Humiliated and shamed in front of all of these bandits by the lusting bandits leader, she just sat by the side of the throne, sobbing to herself. Typical damsel in distress. Too bad there wasn't a prince charging in with his horse to save her. No, only an elven ranger with a quiver full of arrows.

"... Well, looks like things are going to change."

She muttered, pulling her hood over her head as she drew her bow. Twenty four bandits in total. Should not take her more than five minutes. She held her breath and released her first shot. The arrow flew straight and true, barely making a sound as it embedded itself into the head of a bandit that was dancing by the fire in the centre of the cavern. The bandit flew back from the sheer force of the arrow impaling his skull, crashing into another bandit who was behind him. Before the bandits realized what had happened five more arrows flew out, each hitting another five bandits in vital regions, felling them instantly. By now the remaining bandits had realized something was wrong but more arrows came flying in, this time from a different area, piercing and killing another five. Their attacker wasn't staying in one spot, moving constantly and firing from a different spot each time.

"I-Intruder!"

The bandits finally regained their senses and started to grab their weapons. More arrows rained in, killing bandits before they could even scramble to their feet or put on their armour. Even those who had their armour on found arrows piercing through the exposed parts, even if those exposed parts were extremely small.

"Stick together! Don't give them a chance to get a shot!"

"Ow! My knee!"

"Close up the gaps with your shields!"

The bandits started to huddle together, closing off any gaps in their defence with their shields like one giant turtle. Legionnaire tactics. These were no ordinary bandits. These were once soldiers of the empire. Deserters. She eyed the bandits from the edge of her hood. She managed to half their numbers but now she had to deal with the remaining twelve who had managed to get their footing back. Still, no matter. She aimed high, drew the arrow only slightly, and released it. The arrow flew high before gravity did its work and the arrow turned, falling back towards the ground. It by-passed the shield and stabbed a bandit in the head, felling him. That left a gap that she did not waste time to exploit. Notching ten arrows in one go, she pulled the string hard and releasing the entire bunch. The arrows flew straight and true, all entering the gap left behind by the fallen bandit.

"Gah!"

"I got hit!"

The formation started to break down quickly, the shield formation was scattering, allowing her to jump out from her hiding area. She charged straight for the entire enemy formation and jumped onto their shields, using those as a step to jumped above the group with her bow having already notched several arrows. She released the arrows down at near point blank range, killing those she aimed at with one shot each.

"T-The intruder!"

"Get her!"

The remaining bandits tried to scramble to swing their swords at her but she gracefully dodged, twisting her body around their blades as though she were the wind. She used an arrow and stabbed it into the head of a bandit as she jumped back, finding space before throwing her bow up into the air. The act made most of the bandits look and she used this distraction to reach by her sides where under her cloak two specially carved blades dangled by their holders. The blades were long and thinner than most blades, their hilts was a faint gold with intricate carvings that made them look like wings. Along the blade were runic carvings that glowed a slightly blue as she drew them. A glint from her eyes came from under her hood before she started slashing away at the bandits. Like a graceful dancer doing a ballet, she 'danced' her way through the bandits, slashing away at them and felling them before they could realize what had happened. Even those that did realize and tried to fight back, her small size coupled with her nimble and swift movements made actually hitting her extremely difficult. It wasn't long before all the bandits had fallen all around her on a floor littered with body and blood. But as her figure stood in the middle of this bloody mess, she alone seemed untouched by the blood and carnage. She raised her hand up just as her bow fell down straight into her hand.

"Don't get too cocky!"

A voice shouted, making her look. The bandit chief had survived and was holding the young imperial girl with his sword to her throat. Hostage situation.

"I don't know who you are but if you think you can mess with me, you've got another thing coming!"

The bandit chief taunted. Really? Hiding behind a hostage is his idea of being manly? Not matter, her hand inched to the back of her waist even as the bandit chief still continued to shout curses and swears at her.

"Put down your weapon you wench! And I might just let you live-"

Without a pause, she drew a dagger from her back and threw it straight at the bandit, hitting him square in the forehead, felling him almost instantly. She sighed, finally glad that this was all over. Slinging her bow back on, she walked over to the young girl, offering a hand to her.

"I'm here to save you, though that wasn't really the plan. No need to be afraid."

The girl stared at her in wide eyed awe and shock. This stranger just came in, cleared out a cave filled with bandits who used to be professionally trained soldiers all by herself? In less than five minutes?

"W-who are you?"

The girl asked. She blinked a couple of times before smiling.

"... Just a stranger."

* * *

Heading back to Solitude, she let the girl go back to her family. As the girl was having a tearful reunion with her family members, she disappeared back into the shadows before any one noticed. She never really liked the spot light. Besides, she couldn't afford to have too much attention on her at this moment.

"So, you've been busy while we're here."

A voice spoke up behind her. She turned and saw the rest of her group. The short mage walked up to her with a smile.

"How did it go?"

The mage asked. She simply looked back at the celebrating scene.

"... Well, I now know how 'he' feels."

She replied, looking back to a certain young man who stood there with his arms crossed as he leaned against the stone wall. He merely nodded and pushed off from the wall, walking off with the rest of the group following behind. She stayed behind a little longer, seeing the happy family reunion. A slight pull at her heart. Family. A luxury she no longer had. But she will do what she came to do. She had to. Her duty and her mission. She pulled her hood down before turning around and heading off to follow her group.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: When I was thinking up of the Harbinger, I was thinking in what way can I make the manliest of men be weird? I thought of making him good at cooking (which he is) and making muffins or cupcakes, but that was too mild. So... let's make him OCD and a clean freak. It makes it funny as he is a werewolf as well, which means he sheds fur, which grates his nerves to no end.

* * *

**Skyrim Adventures**

**Chapter 3**

**A Sword and a Broom**

He didn't know what to think of this situation. He was slightly peeved about the entire camp site. Peeved was an understatement. It was a mess. A mess was an understatement. It was like a dragon flew by and decided to ransack the place whilst spinning around in circles. In other words, a mess.

"What are you sulking about? It's normal."

Thayran the mage said off-handedly, throwing the parchment that she was reading to one side. That act alone really ticked him off. He stormed over and snatched the parchment off the floor in a fit of rage. Wasn't really thinking of what his actions may look like to the others but then again he didn't need to hide any intentions since he wanted all to know what he was feeling and thinking.

"It's probably just his nagging mode. He's really been keeping quiet for the past few days."

The thief Kevex muttered as he counted his lock-picks before slotting them into his pouch into special holders within the pouch.

"What, you mean that whole time since 'that' incident?"

The mage asked in surprise. She turned to Alexia, the assassin, for answers but the assassin, like always, was sleeping like a log next to the fire, her head nodding and bobbling up and down.

"... That's pointless."

The mage muttered. In a fit of rage, he stormed off, not wanting to associate himself with the group for this moment and no one seemed to stop him. The mage turned to the one in the iron helmet who was sitting by the fire, stocking it with a stick.

"Are you sure it's alright to let him go?"

She asked him. The one in the iron helmet looked at her and nodded silently. The mage shrugged, and went back to her readings.

"Well, it's your call."

She muttered, taking out a new scroll to look at. This was the way this group worked. Not a single one of them were here because they were forced to. They could leave at any time they pleased but for some reason or another they had all stuck around together without question, without a word of agreement, without knowing what or where they were heading towards. But they all knew that it was something they had to do. Something that all had a role to take part in and in the end it wasn't about honour, or glory, or self sacrifice. It was about the journey and each other.

* * *

When he stormed off, he wasn't thinking too clearly. Wasn't thinking about much and so he just headed towards a direction that his feet carried him towards. And in his slight rage, he did not notice a familiar elf walking in his direction.

"Sigfrid?"

A familiar voice asked. He looked up and saw the foreign elf. Her soft complexion and slightly pale skin was a contrast to her choice of clothing and her skills in combat. Indeed, she was an elf. Her walk, her grace was similar to the high elves yet she did not have their height. Her features were not sharp like other elves either. She was... confusing, to say the least. Much like an elf but very unlike one at the same time. Were elves from other places all like this?

"Sigfrid? Is something wrong?"

The elf asked once more. He blinked a few times. His anger somewhat dissipated. This elf had a strange presence about her that allowed others around her to feel secure, to be at ease.

"No... nothings wrong."

He shook his head in reply. He noticed that she was carrying some sticks in one arm whilst holding a rabbit carcass by the ears. She must have gone hunting. By the looks of the wound on the kill, she must have killed it with such precision and stealth that the rabbit must not have even noticed her around before the arrow was fired. An extremely clean kill. Her skills were even greater than most wood elven hunters he knew.

"Is that for dinner?"

He pointed to the rabbit. She looked down at the kill in her hand and nodded.

"It isn't much but I guess it's better than having just a grass soup. Are you heading anywhere?"

He thought about her question. He wasn't really heading anywhere but he didn't want to head back to the camp any time soon. He still wasn't calm enough to face those messed up bunch of idiots. Thayran was the worst with her complete disregard for order or cleanliness. But then again, she was usually too absorbed in her work that she did not bother to look at anything else. But the others weren't a whole lot better. Kevex, with his usual habits for stealing, would not bother to put things back the way they were before. That was a complete disregard for the ancient Nords with his messy desecration. In the beginning, he had a lot of objections to the desecration of the ancient Nord tombs but after a while he came to realize that firstly, the ancient Nords were not too welcoming to anyone, regardless of whether they were to pay respects or not. Secondly, a whole of jobs, quests, and general things they had to do would force them into the tombs and a whole lot of desecration had to be done. Thirdly... well, it was Kevex. Even if he did not touch the urns, he would still frisk the bodies of the draugr without any hesitation, even if the said draugr were still walking and swinging an axe in his face.

Alexia, the dark brotherhood's listener, was not... Well, he wasn't sure about Alexia as well. Still, Alexia was easier to understand than this elf. Alexia did not seem to care where she was before sleeping. The number of times she slept in the middle of the busy markets was uncountable. In the halls of the Jarls she would simply simply fall asleep in a chair at the side or right in the middle of the hall before the Jarl. There was one time she walked up to the Jarl when he sat on his throne and even sat on the Jarl just to sleep. 'That guy' was slightly better but he never seemed to get the message that no matter what or who asks him for help, it would always land the whole group into trouble.

Not once was there a time when a quest they got let them do something simple and easy. Even those that seemed easy would easily escalate into something larger, like how delivering a sword from one person to another would escalate into a dragon hunt the next second. That was too much. This elf was slightly better, her manners were refine, her elegance and grace were soothing and calming. But... her culture was too different from Tamriel's. For crying out loud! Wear some undergarments! He did not know where to look! Her naivete was also on an unworldly level. For crying out loud, just because a merchant says that something is rare does not mean it is acceptable to buy it at that price! And who believes those garbage about anti-dragon arrows anyway?

"You're thinking something bad about me, aren't you?"

Her voice made him snap back to reality. Her eyes narrowed at him. A woman's intuition. Ever a scary thing.

"Not really. You can head back first. I need to take a walk."

He replied before walking past her and into the woods. The elf was obviously not convinced.

* * *

It wasn't long after walking into the dense woods that he came across something suspicious. Coincidences and such events were no longer surprising for him. Ever since travelling with the group, he became accustomed to such weird coincidences. Well, his extremely fast ascension to becoming the new harbinger of the Companions was also some sort of miraculous set of coincidences. Back to what he found. An entrance to an ancient Nordic tomb. Not to mention it was surrounded by some really suspiciously dressed people. Those people looked like ordinary bandits but something about them was off. If there was one thing he had learned over the years, it was that never try talking to bandits. They were disagreeable, stubborn, relentless and also rather stupid people. Or they didn't hear the news of how the Harbinger of the Companions was on a journey with a group of the most powerful fighters Skyrim had to offer.

Some may be have their identities be extremely questionable, but none the less each and every single one of them were strong in their own right. Not the type of people even he would want to make an enemy of. Thayran in particular. Looking at the 'bandits', he had to wonder about their movements. Their movements looked disorganised, walking about randomly in irregular patterns. But he knew what a simple on-looker could not see. Those 'irregular' patterns were on purpose. The way they did their patrols showed that they were prepared for a thinking enemy, an enemy that would observe them and attack them in various methods. Someone like him. The way they kept their hands on their weapons, the position of their weapons on their body. They were well trained, almost like legionnaires. But legionnaires rarely dressed like bandits unless they were investigating the Stormcloaks in secrecy. And even then they would not be so obvious. The level of discipline amongst these were not as high but still at a respectable level. The last clue was the weapons themselves. He narrowed his eyes the moment he realized what they were.

"... The Silver Hand."

His voice filled with spite. The Silver Hand, a band of self-proclaimed werewolf hunters. They also specialise in Vampire hunting but they made it their goal to hunt werewolves and would prioritise the hunting of werewolves over those undead blood suckers. Granted, being the harbinger of the Companions, he too had the blood of the wild within him, but he made sure that he and the Circle, a close knit specially chosen group of warriors within the Companions that acted as the Companion's council, had full control of their own transformations. It was hard to do so as the instincts of the Wolf were strong but he had reigned the beast in. Granted, there are many werewolves that lose themselves and turned feral, never to return to their human selves, but the Silver Hand could never see the difference.

They refused to believe that there were werewolves or vampires who chose not to do evil deeds, that chose to help the people. Just the week before he had received the news that one of the warriors of the Companions was attacked while heading towards a client for some beast extermination request. The Silver Hand had ambushed him while he was on the road and the thing was that Companion wasn't even a werewolf, let alone part of the circle. While he managed to survive, he was badly hurt and almost died. The Silver Hand in Skyrim was a problem for almost everyone. Unlike their fellow groups elsewhere in Tamriel, the ones in Skyrim were like bandits, attacking almost everyone they saw on the pretext that they were werewolves or were tainted by werewolves. That is why they are never allowed within the Holds and would be attacked by Legionnaires and Stormcloaks alike, leaving them to stay out in the wilderness like bandits. So they were like bandits. Really strong and well trained bandits with weapons made to hunt specific enemies. Him.

"... Well, I do believe that a pay back is in order."

He smirked to himself, reaching to his back where he kept an extremely large two handed sword. Drawing it from its large sheath that he had custom made, the giant blade made from dwarven metal, its edges sharp and ready. Rearing back, he held the blade in one hand, aimed, and threw his blade. The giant blade flew straight out of the bushes, hitting one of the Silver Hand in the back. The werewolf hunter flew some distance from the sheer force of the blade, before landing into the dirt. The rest of the Silver Hand all drew their weapons, shouting to find their attacker.

"I guess that's my cue."

He smirked, jumping out of the bushes he was hiding within whilst drawing his second weapon. One giant axe.

"Looking for me?"

He smirked, before charging straight for the rest of the Silver Hand. This was what he loved. The thrill of battle, the lust of bloodshed. He was a Companion, he was their harbinger, he will get his revenge. He swung the the axe in one large arc, bringing the axe from the ground up, by passing the Silver Hand attacker's shield from beneath, cutting through the hunter in one clean slice. With the axe high up, he brought the sharp pick end of the axe down on the next attacker, the spike end of axe piercing through the hunter's tough steel helmet. Why his comrade chose to wear such a simple helmet like an iron helmet is beyond his comprehension but he is skilled enough to wear whatever he likes, unlike these Silver Hand hunters. The body of the hunter was still stuck to the spiked end of his axe but it did not bother him as he swung the axe, with body in tow, using the additional weight to increase momentum and smash right through the next attacker.

Swinging another round and the body became dislodged, flying into another attacker. Grabbing onto the centre portion of the handle shaft, he spun the axe using his hand, creating a cyclone with turbulent winds drawing the attackers into the axe. Two attackers were drawn in, being cut into shreds by the axe but the rest held their ground. Well, not that he liked drawing them in anyway. He was more the 'get in, get it down' type of guy. With enough momentum in the axe's rotation, he threw it, the axe sawing through the ground, straight through three attacks, arcing and turning around, sawing back like a boomerang and cutting through the last attacker left from the back. He snatched the axe when it came flying towards him, stopping its momentum and its mad killing spree. Due to his way of using it, the axe was still pristine and clean. Not that it mattered. He walked across the dirt and stepped up to where the first hunter lay with his sword stuck out in his back. Gripping its handle, he yanked it out, swinging it once to shake off the blood before sheathing it and keeping his axe. Where he kept his axe is a mystery, as is with all the others in the group.

"Well, time to explore the tomb."

He would normally have some reservations about exploring a tomb alone but like all the others, he had adventured alone before joining up with the group. So this sort of thing was nothing.

* * *

By nothing, he did not mean walking into every single trap there was. Battered, bruised, having cuts almost everywhere and almost falling to his death several times, he had to wonder how did he manage to survive up till now? Maybe he had gotten too reliant on Kevex for tomb and dungeon runs. How could he be so blind to all of those traps? Just how did he manage to survive for so long before joining the group? Well, luckily he had brought along enough food and potions to heal himself. He rummaged through his pouch and felt the smooth cooling feel of a glass vial. Pulling it out, he came to expect a potion of healing. What he got, however, was something very different. A vial of... something.

"... Thayran..."

If there was one thing he hoped the mage did not do, besides making a mess of both the camp site or whatever was around her, was making potions. She may have passed her Masters level course in alchemy and restoration, but she sure as hell don't seem to be anywhere NEAR the NOVICE levels. How did she manage to pass those courses anyway? Why were there courses for those types of magick anyway? Wait... she's the archmage... She could cheat if she wanted to. But he knew the archmage as someone who never lie or cheat in these sorts of manners. She would lie about her age, or when trying to buy something, but she wouldn't do it for magick. That was one thing she vowed never to do. Still... what was this?

"... Best to put it away."

He muttered, putting the vial back into his pouch. He wouldn't touch it for fear of what it may do but he wouldn't throw it away just out of fear for what Thayran would do to him. For some odd reason, Thayran would seemingly know what he does even when they weren't together. And what she could or would do to him... well, let's just say it wouldn't be nice to feel or see what she may do to him. Heaving a sigh, he reached into his pouch to retrieve something to get back some energy. He pulled out a... carrot. Was that all he had? He was sure he brought more than that. She rummaged through his pouch a little more but found nothing other than the carrot.

"... Kevex... that little... sigh... whatever."

He muttered, taking a bite from his carrot. Strange how carrots don't really seem to be grown anywhere, if they were grown in the first place. They just... appear. Looking at his situation now, he had to wonder how did he lose so much health to traps? People, he could deal with. Traps? Not so much. He looked ahead. The last chamber was just behind those large doors. How did he know? He had gone through so many rooms, chambers, fighting draugrs whilst poisoned, cursed and whatnot. By his estimation, this crypt was a fairly small one. Besides, what sort of giant door would NOT lead to the final chamber?

"... Right, let's get this over with."

He muttered, pushing himself off the wall he leaned against for support and walked over to the door. Using the last parts of his strength, he pushed them open, letting him stumble into a giant hall. Like most ancient Nord tombs, this one had multiple sarcophagus lining the walls of the hall, some of which had their lids pried open and their occupants laid out on the floor. Some had swords or axes sticking out of them. A battle had occurred here. Standing in the centre of the hall was the Silver Hand. Or what was left of it. Bodies of the hunters lay dead around the centre sarcophagus, various cuts and tears in their bodies. The leader still stood alive, but barely. With his iconic silver sword in hand, he faced off, with bruises, cuts all over his face, against... the draugr death lord. Draugr death lords were most likely some important Nord Jarl or leader of a clan in the past. Brought back by some form of dark magick, they now hunger for flesh and blood while having enough power to force even one of the Circle members down on their knees. But he was no mere member of the Circle. He was their Harbinger. Though injured and badly battered, he was still a threat to face.

"AAAAHH!"

The Silver Hand leader screamed out in anguish as the draugr death lord brought its wicked rusted blade down on him, cutting him down in that instant. So much for elite hunters. By now the draugr had noticed his intrusion, baring its nasty toothless mouth at him, screeching an inhumane screech that would scare any one out of their skins. Even battle-hardened soldiers.

"Well well... looks like the big boys want to play."

He knew that his blade and axe may work but he was clearly in no condition to use them to their full potential. Dropping the heavy weapons onto the floor, he shook his head, clearing his mind. He looked up at the draugr, his eyes turning yellow, his pupils becoming slits. His hand and arms started to grow fur as it build up in size and density. His legs and body grew in size and became slightly bent as a large tail grew out from behind. With a full transformation, he, the werewolf, howled at the draugr. The hunger was strong and it will only be satisfied by one method. Killing.

* * *

She stepped cautiously through the small room. Her bow was drawn and ready to take down anything that may jump out at her. The room only had two doors, the one she came in from and the other was where she guessed she had to go. As she stepped closer to the door, they suddenly opened, scaring her slightly and bringing her bow up to aim. But who she saw standing there made her stop. Beaten, scratched and... topless? There he stood, with a slightly haggard look on his face. Even with her arrow aimed right straight at his head he did not seem to care. Too tired to bother, apparently.

"... What are you doing here?"

He asked. She sighed, putting down her bow and keeping her arrow.

"I was worried, so I came to look. I found this entrance hidden away but it seems that I came through the exit, didn't I?"

She asked, walking over to help support him.

"Yeah... you did."

He smiled as they walked towards the exit.

"So, everything cleared out?"

She asked. He stopped, turning his head a little and looking at the giant mess in the great hall he was just in. He hated mess... but.

"... Yeah, everything's done."

"Good. So you've cooled off now? Everyone's back at camp waiting for dinner."

He sighed, shaking his head. Things just don't change. But he felt lighter in his heart and so he guessed... he'll let things slide. For now.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: I had always liked playing the mage type characters after playing an Archer. I love archers.

Anyway, the idea of this character came rather quickly. Small sized girl who is very powerful, the opposite of the archtype grey-bearded wizards. Of course, in the story she is actually quite old and her appearance is due to an accident with potions.

As for the book to be used as an attack weapon... well, I thought it would be cool. The closest I saw to having the same type of weapon would be the summoners/scholars of FFXIV.

* * *

**Skyrim Adventures**

**Chapter 4**

**A book full of pages**

"Not here... Not here... Not here!"

She fumed, tossing parchments and books out of her small sling bag. Nobody is sure how she is able to squeeze so many things into that small bag that was no larger than the books it carried. Sigfrid stood behind her, slowly organising the books and parchments neatly whilst shaking his head in dismay. But to him, cleaning up her mess was just another thing he came used to as part of his every day routine.

"What did you lose this time, a nirn root?"

Kevex asked with a slight chuckle. She raised her hand towards the master thief without looking away from her bag and snapped her fingers. In an instant, Kevex's hair caught fire.

"AAHHHH! MY HAIR! MY HAIR'S ON FIRE!"

Kevex screamed, jumping up to his feet and running a few circles like a mad chicken. Just as he ran past Alexia, the sleeping assassin raised her leg in his path, causing him to trip and fall head first into the snow covered ground, putting out the fire. Alexia lifted up her hood from her sleepy eyes looking at the thief whose head was smoking from deep under the snow. She simply smiled before going back to sleep.

"If I didn't know better, it would be your fault that it's missing."

She snapped at his body.

"You know, you shouldn't be setting people on fire like that."

Sylvian said, walking over to join her by the rising stacks of books and scrolls.

"He's a dark elf, he has high resistance to fire."

She muttered in reply, tossing another book out of that magical space in her pouch.

"... Still, don't you think you could have done something else?"

"That elf doesn't learn and he never will. ARGH! I can't find it anywhere!"

She fumed, throwing her bag onto the snow covered ground in a fit of anger.

"What are you looking for anyway?"

The young elf quizzed.

"My grimoire!"

She snapped, starting to ransack Kevex's bag, tossing out his whole bunch of stolen goods in search for her beloved book.

"This is what happens when you're not organised."

Sigfrid said in a 'I-told-you-so' sort of manner. She looked up and glared at him as though lightning bolts could shoot out of her eyes and vaporize him. They might as well could if it was her.

"You don't need to remind me!"

"Aren't those grimoires?"

Sigfrid asked, pointing to the whole mountainous stacks of books she just tossed out of her own bag.

"Those are just simple spell books, research books and other reading materials. What I'm looking for is MY grimoire! I wrote it myself and I poured my life time's worth of magick into that book!"

She answered back with her voice filled with irritation and anger. Sylvian did notice that she wasn't carrying around her large book that she kept dangling by her side. That large leather bound book had its own special holder and lock, adding further mystery to a book that was already suspicious. The elf had always wondered what sort of book it was but everyone around her just told her to ignore it and, if possible, keep away from it.

"That book isn't dangerous by itself, since it is simply a book on spells. To the untrained eye, it simply looks like scribbles and messy lines. It is worthless in stores, let alone to anyone else other than our arch mage here."

Sigfrid explained, putting the rest of the books back into the magical pouch.

"But if a powerful magick user finds it..."

She looked up from Kevex's bag, narrowing her eyes at the Harbinger.

"It has more magick seals and locks than the White Tower in the Citadel."

Sigfrid stopped when her expression did not meet his expectations.

"... Thayran... that grimoire IS... sealed. Right?"

She did not answer that question. A really bad reaction.

"Thayran! You know you can't just leave that book lying around without sealing it!"

The Harbinger snapped at her, causing her to narrow her eyes at him.

"You don't need to tell me what I've already known for decades! Stop treating me like a kid all the time!"

"Then stop acting like one! Sigh, there's nothing we can do here arguing what is right or wrong. We'll have to split up and look for it. If we're lucky, we'll find it on the floor or some low life bandit finds it. If we're not... well... Just pray to the divines you don't face necromancers or vampires."

Sigfrid warned, grabbing his sword and slinging it onto his back. He walked over to the thief and pulled his head out of the snow with Kevex's hair now in a burnt mess.

"You'll need to help as well."

"I know I know. If someone powerful uses that damn book, it'll be the end of the entire Tamriel. I still like to live, if possible."

Kevex sighed, getting to his feet and dusting his pants of snow.

"That means you as well Alexia."

The assassin stifled a yawn and got up to her feet, rubbing her eyes before walking off in one direction. Sigfrid wanted to tell the last member of the group but when he looked, 'that guy' was already gone.

"... Sigh, that guy will be back anyway. Let's split up for now. We'll comb around this area and meet back in... three hours."

She was desperate to find it. Her grimoire was something she can never lose. Never. It was an extremely powerful tool that she had created, an accumulation of her power over her many years throughout her magick life. Given to her by her High Elven father, it wasn't just made from any ordinary leather and paper. They were runic paper wrapped by leather from an Ancient Dragon. Her Breton mother had often disapproved of giving her such a powerful item but it was agreed upon in the end that she was mature enough to take it with her to the College in Winterhold when she was accepted many decades ago. Her ascension through the ranks in the Mages College was astounding, mainly thanks to a whole series of coincidental events that led her to find the Eye of Magnus as well as the Staff of Magnus. She still had that bitter memory of that Arcano fellow. She really hated those Thalmor idiots. The incident ended... well, it ended as well as it could have, but it resulted in a major shift in the College's structure and resulted in her being the new Archmage. She had the power and the potential to become the Archmage, surpassing her predecessor easily and mastering the highest levels of spells Tamriel had to offer. But she didn't stop there. Years of research and study led her to create far more powerful and frightening spells. Spells that had solidified the College as a major power not only in Skyrim, but within the whole of Tamriel. Spells that caused many people from all across the continent, to either seek her help in conquering nations or to plead to her to destroy such spells. There were even some who wished to challenge her to fights. Of course, she did not help people conquer nations, nor did she destroy the spells. She did defeat those challengers though, incinerated them, electrocuted them, froze them, whatever. The point is, that book contained all of her knowledge and power that she had garnered throughout the years. High Elven Runic paper was not something that you could just take a quill with ink and write on it. Everything inside could only be written by pouring magick into it. Whatever spell was inside was literally powered and ready to be used. A skilled user could extract the spell and use it for only one time, but a Master practitioner of the arcane arts could learn the spell and use it whenever he pleased, as many times as he pleased. The Ancient Dragon leather prevented the book from being destroyed by anything other than a Dragon... or a Dragon Born. She couldn't really remember the first time she saw the Dragon born but she knew in her heart during their encounter with one another, that she would end up travelling with him. That elf that travelled with him was also an interest to know about. What exactly was that elf? She did not exhibit any real characteristics of the 'mer' of Tamriel, but rather held characteristics of all the 'mer'.

"... Dammit, my notes are in my grimoire"

She cursed, remembering about why she had to tredge through the thick snow on her own. She was small in size due to a certain... accident some years back and had reverted to body of a young adolescent. It did cause some trouble from time to time but she did not really care as her powers and mental capabilities were not affected. Her grimoire contained not only spells, but also notes on various subjects and topics. The latest of which concerned the foreign elf that travelled with the group. She had taken an large interest in the elf and her people to the point where she would taken notes vigorously whenever the elf did something new. An obsession, really.

"If I find that someone stole it I will burn their- ... Hmm?"

She noticed something in the snow. Hurrying over, she knelt down and started to dig in the snow. It was small, protruding through the snow that covered the floor, but after a short while of digging, she uncovered most of it to realize what it was.

"... This looks bad."

She muttered. She had uncovered a small stone with intricate carvings all over it. She had seen stones like these a few times before. This was a conjurer's stone. Conjurer are able to summon different creatures depending on their own power and abilities, however with the help of runic symbols, stones, spell books and ingredients, even a novice magick user can summon a daedric army. Well, not that anyone would. Summoning was one thing, controlling the summoned creature was another. Most, if not all, summons would resist the bindings of the summoner. Summoners would often offer some sort of bargain to gain the trust of the summons or, in some cases, fight the summons into submission. She studied the runic symbols for the moment.

"... Daedric summoning... This has to be some high level spell caster."

She muttered to herself. She got up to her feet and looked around. Judging by the stone's placement with the runic symbols etched in certain ways, she deduced that the main summoning area had to be-

"There."

She hurried on in her chosen direction. The summoning stone was only one of many that this spell caster had placed in a certain order. Unlike other types of daedric summons, which require less ground and less work, this summoner was planning on summoning someone, or something, very big. Perhaps somewhere on the level of summoning a daedric prince to this plane. It wasn't completely absurd to hear such stories of people attempting to summon daedric princes to this plane, that was how the Oblivion crisis occurred in the first place, but it was suicidal. Summoning of daedric lords would not only require a large piece of land, which this spell caster had obviously done so far, but would also require a whole lot of ingredients to offer as sacrifices, a large amount of magicka and, last but not least, a very strong spell. If even one of these criteria is not met, the summoner can be killed. At least with her spells, no holy Kings had to be killed. However if whoever is behind this summoning has her Grimoire, two of the four criteria would be fulfilled; the large quantity of magicka, and the very strong spell. She had created and catalogued a large variety of summoning spells and there were a few spells in there capable of summoning the daedric princes themselves to this plane. She did keep in contact with a few of the princes, mainly for the pursuit of knowledge, or needing information, but she did not dare summon them to this plane. For one, Sigfrid would really be pissed about it, it would cause too much mess. She continued to walk in the direction of the main summoning area, by passing more stones with runic carvings on them, each getting larger and appearing in higher frequency than the last. It wasn't long before she finally reached the central area of the summoning circle. An elaborate set up of stones circling around a centre altar where a large statue of a certain daedric prince stood.

"Molag Bal."

She muttered, recognizing the statue. That was one Daedric Prince she did not get along with. She hated Molag and Molag hated her. Their past encounters usually ended up in a fiery duel of explosions, blood and lots of carnage. Around the altar were the bloodied bodies of animals; sheep, cows, honkers and even a mammoth. Someone's been busy. Before the altar stood a hooded figure, raising his hands and chanting some incantation. Laid out before him on the altar was a thick book. Her book. Her Grimoire.

"... Oh great. Just great."

She muttered under her breath. Her worst fears had come true. Some high level magick user had stolen her Grimoire and was now using it to summon a Daedric Lord. She had to interrupt this ritual but she had to do so at the right time. If she forced the spell caster to stop casting at certain points, it could cause tears in the fabric of space, resulting in either large portals to unknown realms and release a whole lot of nightmares into this plane, or it could result in a catastrophic explosion that could potentially wipe Skyrim off the map. She had to get close in order to hear at which part of the incantation was this spell caster at as this guy really speaks very softly. Hopefully he just started. Creeping through the snow, she strained her ears the best she could to hear the incantation. For most Masters of the arcane arts, incantations were useless as such spells can be conjured with a single thought due to experience. There are exceptions to that neat little trick. Spells that were not the user's speciality, complex spells that required a large amount of concentration and power, spells that were too foreign or new to the user, these were some of the simple reasons for spell casters to use incantations despite considered a Master of the arts. She was no exception, leading to the reason why she wrote them down in her Grimoire in the first place. Creeping closer to the ritual altar, she could start to make out the faint verses of the summoning spell. And she did not like what she heard.

"He's almost done."

She realized that she was too late to stop it. The powers of the spell were already starting to take effect. Winds started to pick up, encircling the altar. The ground trembled greatly under the feet as cracks started to reach out from the centre of the entire summoning formation. A giant tear in the fabric of space started to rip open above the altar. The tear was large and would only get larger with each passing second. She had to stop this. Now. She did not care for what the consequence of interrupting the summoning ritual at its crucial stage might be. It might destroy half of Skyrim but if there is one thing she knows, it is that she needed to stop Molag Bal from entering this plane. With Mehrunes Dagon trying to enter this plane during the Oblivion Crisis, most, if not all of Cyrodil was affected. While Molag does not like to conquer planes like Mehrunes, he is the Daedric lord of domination. Not to mention most Daedric princes hate to be summoned on a whim like what this spellcaster is most likely doing at the moment. She knew Molag Bal well, a little too much for her own liking, and this setting is definitely not his ideal place of summoning. Even if the summoning was successful, this spellcaster would only face a very, very angry daedric prince. Angry daedric princes were usually not a very good thing to cross with. But whilst she was thinking of all of the nasty things that could happen, she failed to realize where she was placing her feet on.

SNAP

Under her foot a hidden twig under the snow gave way under her weight, prompting the spellcaster to stop the incantation and turn her way.

"Idiot!"

She shouted as the spell was disrupted. Powerful magick were swirling and being sucked into the small opening that was first created by the spell. The energies were thrashing wildly as the opening started to distort and widen. The vortex from the portal was starting to go critical, sucking in anything and everything. She got up to her feet and raised her hands to the portal. With a slight whisper, her gloves started to glow a faint greenish glow. A warm breeze swept in, mixing with the wild energies and flowing into the portal, causing the powers to be restrained and controlled to a slight extent. However she wasn't powerful enough to contain all of the energies as still wild magick still lashed out in all directions. The coward of the spellcaster turned and ran in a fit of terror. He did not managed to get far, however, as a giant hand shot out of the portal, grabbing him and pulling into the portal. She could do nothing in her state but hear his hellish screams and the sounds of flesh being torn, bones being crushed and blood curling screams being cut off abruptly. That hand, however, was something she had to worry about now.

'We meet once again... Mage.'

A demonic hollow voice echoed throughout the area from seemingly nowhere, and yet everywhere.

"... A little too soon for my own liking."

She muttered back, focusing a good portion of her energy into closing up the portal whilst keeping a reserve in the event of something she did not like to do.

'Indeed... The last we met was only a few years ago. I still have part of my horn chipped off from your spells.'

The dark voice chuckled, as though finding something interesting about the entire situation. She did not find it amusing at all.

"Oh? I thought you would have healed it over by now. I know how petty you can be with things like this."

'I think of it... as a reminder, that not all mortals are easy to bend to my will... and not all mortals would submit.'

"Those two requirements are awfully similar... but what about that guy you just killed?"

She questioned, trying to stall for time though in a sense she knew it was futile. The daedric prince merely chuckled at her question.

'That fool was nothing more than a delusional mad man. He believed that he could change his fate merely by summoning a daedric prince and binding them to his will. A fool and an idiot. Luck did not fortune him when he per chanced upon my shrine first. But humour me for this while, Mage, for I cannot see how such a weak fool could have cast such a spell at his level of power. And the question of what you are doing here needs to be answered. It is too odd to say that you chanced upon him in the Woods... but maybe it is.'

The daedric prince's voice chuckled slightly.

'I see now... your grimoire. You are getting careless, Mage. You know better than to leave such powerful artefacts lying about.'

Great, now she had to be lectured by a daedric prince. As if being lectured by Sigfrid wasn't enough. Not to mention this daedric prince is one daedric prince she really hates.

'I would very much like to have our rematch now, however I have more pressing issues to attend to.'

That made her sigh in relief. She did not have to fight the daedric prince for now.

'... But that would not be interesting for me. Instead, I'll have my champion fight in my stead.'

She looked up at that statement. That did not sound good, at all. A sudden explosion erupted from the portal, knocking her off her feet and into the snow a few feet back. While her mind was still disorientated, she still struggled to her feet. The portal was being forced open by a pair of the same hands that grabbed the spellcaster before. This was really getting out of control. Her mind managed to focus but it was too late to close the portal. Molag Bal's chosen champion had gotten through. A hideous creature that was seemingly made out of an amalgamation of different creatures. The head of a reptile, the arms of a troll, the legs of a bull, tail of a serpent, and wings of a bat. Why wings? She hates bats. Hate them. Absolutely. Causes nothing but trouble.

'You're not looking too well, Mage. Is my Champion... not to your liking?'

Molag gloated. She narrowed her eyes at the monster before her. If anything, this creature is really not to her liking. But she wouldn't let Molag have the pleasure of hearing it straight from her mouth.

"... No, he's just my type."

She smirked, snapping her fingers of both hands, igniting them with flames.

"Just my type to turn into a roast."

Clapping her hands together, the twin fire magicks merged together, forming a concentrated fire ball. Throwing her hands forward shot the fire ball at the creature and upon impact the ball exploded, sending a power blast that pushed the creature back as well as setting it on fire. However the creature was more fire-proof that she had anticipated as it slowly walked towards her, seemingly unscathed by her initial attacks.

"... Right... plan B."

She had no 'plan B' but she could think of something on the fly. If not, plan C. Wait, she hasn't even gotten to plan B.

"Woah!"

She jumped to side just a giant claw crashed into the ground where she was standing a mere second ago.

"No time to think about weird things."

She muttered to herself, scrambling to her feet. Raising her right fist, the winds suddenly changed as the temperature of the air around her hand started to drop drastically, causing ice to form and dance around her fist. Throwing her fist forward, a small hurricane of frost erupted, flying straight for the beast. The creature tried to shield itself as the ice shards in the hurricane peppered on its tough scales. But that was all it did. The creature's hide was too tough. She gathered both of her hands together, placing them by her side as energy started to build. Electrical sparks danced around her hands as her magick poured itself into her spell. Throwing her hands forward, a giant bolt of lightning streaked across the field, striking hard at the creature. The beast stumbled back a few steps, shook its head and glared at her. No use?

"... No... there is something."

She noticed that the creature was visibly slower. It also seemed... cautious? Her attacks were dealing damage but not at a substantial amount. Well, to be fair, she was simply using basic levels spells.

"... Now here is where the fun part starts."

She smirked, raising both of her hands into the air. The winds swirled around the empty area between her hands and soon a giant ice spike was formed. The ice spike hovered above her right hand as she brought it down to her eye level. Her left hand ran over the top of the spike and electricity started to crackle around the ice.

"If one element doesn't work, try two."

She threw the spike forward and the ice flew straight for the creature who brought out its weapon, a giant cleaver, but the electricity that coated the ice shocked the creature and the ice impacted the cleaver, shattering and exploding as an explosion of fire erupted from within the ice spike, sending the creature sprawling on the ground.

"... or three."

She smiled. The creature was visibly hurt but it was still able to get back up to its feet and stand strong. She raised her hands once more. Each hand gathering the energies for different spells. In one hand she had a fire ball, in the other was a crackling electricity that enveloped her hand. Throwing both spells forward, the creature was hit by both spells and it was still standing.

"... Tough son of a... Well, no matter."

The whole point of a Mage, at least in her opinion, is to be able to keep the opponent from getting too close to the caster. Granted, it is hard to ensure that enemies are able to stay that distance but she had enforced such teachings in her College. The mages in her College may be more academic than combat orientated but they must still be trained to defend themselves in case of emergencies. And with mages, emergencies come as often as breathing. Being the Archmage of the College, she not only embodied the theory of keeping opponents at a distance, she created the art. Clapping her hands together, she slowly opened her hands, revealing a vortex of swirling energies. She threw the energy into the ground, creating a giant ripple across the Earth that caused cracks to form everywhere, making the creature lose its balance and footing, tumbling backwards. This would give her enough time to use her most powerful spell. Jumping back, she closed her eyes to focus. Unlike other spells, this wasn't something you would find simply lying around in some old tome. Nor was it a spell that you could simply learn by someone teaching you. Well... maybe someone had to teach you, but it wasn't someone you would expect. Being quite old despite her young looks, she had travelled nearly the entire expense of Tamriel and seen a whole lot of things happen. One of those 'things' just so happened to teach her the ability to use this skill. Not everyone could use it, however, as it took special individuals to be able to utilize it.

"..."

The words she muttered were not words that could be said. That were not words that would create any understandable sounds and yet those around would know that she was speaking. Speaking words of immense power, no less. These types of words were... dragon-like. No doubt 'he' would be able to understand her words and be able to use it with ease but if he were to use it the effects would be different. It would not be considered more powerful but rather it would change the very foundation of what the spell would be. The words that she spoke were similar to that of the dragon tongue and yet different. Dragons and their kind would be able to listen and perhaps know what the words were but they would never be able to duplicate them. Such was the being she learned these spells from. She would never teach them to another for they held within them a price. The price may vary from spell to spell but in most cases, it would simply stress her mental and spiritual self to the point of near self-destruction. In other words... the spells would nearly kill her every single time she used them, saved only by the fact that her magicka reserves were nearly limitless and would be able to act as a buffer and take the toll of the spell. That was the main reason she would never teach them to another.

"..."

"..."

The spell was starting to take form as wild energies snaked and crackled out of her hands. She slowly raised her hands up from her sides as her body started to hover above the ground. Power and magick swirled around her small frame as the spell took form, causing her entire self to glow brightly.

"!"

Her eyes flew open as the spell exploded outwards, sending a shock wave out in all directions. The powerful energies flew out and blinded everything as it simply destroyed anything around her in a five metre radius. When the glow subsided, she was left standing in a crater. With a dragon standing behind her. It was not something that you could call a real dragon, however, as its body was seemingly made of flames. The fire dragon looked at her, seeing its summoner greatly weakened by the spell, before looking up to see the creature of Molag Bal, standing at the edge of the crater, being cautious of whatever had just happened. The dragon gave an ear-splitting roar before it spread its wings and took flight, flying straight for the creature. The creature tried to swing its cleaver at the dragon but the blade simply went through the ethereal dragon like it was air. The dragon, however, opened its jaws clamped down on the creature's head and its attack was actually doing damage. With one hard snap, the creature's head came off. The fire dragon then grabbed the creatures body and curled itself around the carcass, folding its wings to cover its entire form before the dragon exploded in a fiery explosion that made any other fire spell seem like a mere match stick. It made a meteor spell look like pebbles as the explosion engulfed nearly the entire forest around the centre of explosion, causing everything caught in its explosion to instantly incinerate to ashes. As the caster of such a spell, she was the only one unaffected. And soon, she was the only thing left standing for a good fifty metres around. Even the snow had been melted away and the dirt under charred black. She struggled to her feet, dragging herself to the place where the altar once stood. Her mind was still pounding like a heavy dead weight in her head but she pressed on. She reached down and stuck her hand in a large mound of ash. Digging around for a while, she pulled out the large dragon leather bound book. Her grimoire. Attaching it back to her belt she turned and headed back towards her camp. Hopefully the others would have noticed her little 'explosion' and know that she had found her book.

'... So you did it, Mage... I expected no less from you.'

That voice. Molag Bal.

'I will leave you be for now, Mage, for I have other mortals to manipulate. However know this... this is not the end. I will be back for you.'

With that, the sinister voice faded away from her mind. She sighed, looking up at the clouded sky.

"... What a sore loser."


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: I was thinking of making the thief character a Khajit but... well, I think dark elves are nicer and fit the image better. Not to be racist or whatever, it just seemed that the story of Skyrim paints them as thieves better... or I just got affected by the loading screen too much.

This character is meant to show how the encumbered thing is like for people who love to grab all the stuff in order to make a quick coin.

Other than that, he is meant to be the joke of the group, but in a group like that, they are one big walking circus anyway.

* * *

**Skyrim Adventures**

**Chapter 5**

**Every Gold counts**

It wasn't every day that they had an extended stay in a city. By his calculations, the most they would stay is one night before they would head off to somewhere. He leaned back in the chair, his eyes constantly looking around the entire place, feeling restless.

"Don't you dare."

A voice threatened him. He turned and looked at the small sized mage sitting in the chair opposite to him. She really doesn't trust him, does she?

"Dare what?"

He asked in a mocking manner but his jokes were not as humorous to her as it was to him since she was now staring daggers at him whilst raising a flaming fist.

"T-Thayran! Don't go lighting up other people's houses for something so trivial!"

A young elven girl said, trying to sedate the mage.

"It isn't trivial. He just pisses me off."

The mage muttered, putting away her magicked hand. He looked at the young elven girl. Her strange demeanour and behaviour would suggest a sheltered lifestyle, perhaps of some rich family? But it is also true that since she is not native to Tamriel, many customs would be lost to her. He was also impressed by her ability to attune to nature. He once saw a pack of wolves become as tame as city dogs around her. That aspect of hers was very much like the Wood Elves but she was definitely not one of them.

"You do not need to worry, Master Mage, for there is nothing in this house that is of value to steal."

A new voice spoke up, breaking his thoughts. Stepping out of the larger, carrying a tray with mugs of bear on it, the lightly armoured lady walked over to the table and placed the drinks before each of them at the table though he doubt the sleeping assassin would be drinking anything anytime soon. She sleeps like a log.

"Thanks Lydia."

Thayran said, grabbing the mug and bringing it to her lips.

"I'm sorry to bother you and your Thane each time we come here."

The mage lowered her head slightly but Lydia shook her head to those words.

"It is my honour to serve the friends of my Thane. Besides, my Thane seems very happy each time the Dragonborn visits."

"But their talks can last for hours. And with that muscle headed wolf mutt heading back to his mead hall of mountain troll drunkards, no one can stop those two upstairs from going on for days."

Thayran muttered, using a whole bunch of different allegories and metaphors in one sentence. Going back to what this housecarl just said. Looking around once more, he really figured that there was nothing of real value in this little house that was worth stealing. For a Thane of a hold, this guy pretty much lives like a beggar. Or so he would be thinking.

"Speaking of which. Master Thief, I do believe I have some interesting information for you, if you so wish to hear it."

Lydia said, making him look her way.

"Interesting information, you say?"

"Lydia, don't encourage him."

Thayran muttered, shaking her head in dismay.

"My Thane would wish to express his thanks to his friends and thus I will take this opportunity to allow Master Thief here an opportunity."

Lydia simply replied, making the mage slightly confused and irritated. She wanted to say something back but stopped, thinking it was probably useless to try to argue with this housecarl.

"Whatever. Do what you will."

"Thank you, Master Mage."

Lydia bowed slightly to the small mage before turning her attention back to him.

"As I was saying, Master Thief, there is news of a certain merchant travelling through the city, stopping by Whiterun before heading across the border towards the Capital. The rumour states that this merchant is a well-known underground rare artefact smuggler and he often goes to different places, procuring rare and valuable goods before sending them off to the Capital to be sold. On this merchant's trip to Skyrim, he had apparently come across a set of Golden Dragon Balls."

"... What?"

He thought he might have heard wrongly. Dragon's what?

"Balls. We're not too sure on what they are exactly but they are said to be worth a fortune."

Lydia added.

"This is the first time I've heard of anything like this. Just give it up and go for something else-"

Thayran stopped in mid-sentence as she noticed that his chair was already empty.

"... He sure runs fast when it comes to money."

* * *

He wasn't exactly sure who or what had managed to talk him into doing this in the first place, but he was sure that he heard the word 'fortune' somewhere. His mind wasn't all too clear on the details nor did it want to delve too deeply into such things. But still... Dragon's balls? What sort of sick and twisted collector was this? So what if it was worth a fortune? Okay, so maybe it was worth two fortunes, given that they came in pairs. Usually. Still, the things that he would do to get a quick coin. He really needed to learn some sort of restraint. Or he could get Thayran to tie him up. Not such a good idea now that he thought about it. Sighing, he walked up the narrow street towards the market. There was someone there whom he could get more information on this 'job'. The market of Whiterun was crowded, as usual, with people selling and buying goods, children running around and playing tag with one another, guards talking to one another about sweet rolls and the occasional foreigner loitering around asking for help. Well, ignoring the pleas of help, he headed towards a certain stall where a young woman was arguing with the shopkeeper.

"This isn't worth the ten gold I paid for!"

The young woman snapped, shoving the jar to the shopkeeper who stubbornly refused it.

"I'm telling you, it's from the ancient Nord times! I even have experts verifying it!"

"Then bring those experts out! The workmanship on this jar is obviously from Morrowind!"

"It isn't!"

He stepped up from behind the woman and reached over, picking the jar off the woman's hand.

"Wha- Wait, aren't you-"

The woman looked at him with surprise but he merely smiled. He took a look at the jar carefully, before looking at the shopkeeper.

"I'm afraid your 'experts' have lied to you. These carvings are from Morrowind. They may look like ancient Nord designs but you see how the lines curve? These are certainly Morrowind design, not to mention the traces of volcanic ash in the structure of the jar. Of course, if you still insist that your 'experts' are not false, then we can bring it up to the Jarl to settle this."

He pointed out to the storekeeper, who looked shocked at his own expertise in these sort of things. And the prospect of being in front of the Jarl was a frightening prospect to think about.

"I... I'll take a look at it."

The shopkeeper finally relented. Happy with the transaction, the young woman walked to the side with him following closely by her side.

"So what is the Guild master of the Thieves Guild as well as a Nightingale of Nocturnal doing here?"

The young woman asked as they walked up to another store.

"Oh, I was just in the neighbourhood. So what's the latest news on the streets, Ysolda?"

He asked, picking up an apple and tossing a coin to the shopkeeper, taking a bite out of the fruit. The young merchant smirked, taking up a cabbage to inspect it.

"You know better than I do. What is it that you're aiming for this time?"

"... Dragons."

He merely said, making her stop. She looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

"Dragons? You deal with such things on a near daily basis with your little band of over-powered heroes. What exactly are you talking about?"

"... I've heard rumours of a certain... Dragon artefact that someone was smuggling out of Skyrim. Heard anything about that?"

At this, the young merchant's lips curled slightly. She reached into her coin pouch and pulled out a few coins. She paid the storekeeper for the cabbage before putting it into her basket.

"Let's take a walk."

Ysolda said, heading off. The two walked in silence through the crowd to the side alley where the crowd had thinned out greatly. The back alleyways of Whiterun had fewer people compared to the main market square and was home to the more seedy-looking merchants of the Hold. But to the two of them this was the sort of place they were more used to.

"So you're hunting for 'that' as well."

Ysolda said at last, breaking the silence.

"'That'? 'As well'? There are others?"

"A certain rumour of Dragon's balls have surfaced in the underground market. They are not what you think so get your dirty mind out of the gutter. Apparently some dig site by the College had uncovered an ancient Tomb of an eccentric Dragon priest. From what was known, the Dragon priest would take the power of the Dragons and compress them into orbs. It is unknown how many he made but the rumours speculate about seven were uncovered. They were meant to be moved back to the college by carriage but were ambushed along the way by bandits. No one knows what happened to the goods after that until the news of this 'collector' moving some important goods out of Skyrim with a lot of secrecy going about. The rumours actually came from one of your own men. Why haven't you heard about it?"

Ysolda stopped to confront him with this question. He scratched the back of his head, trying to think of the actual reason.

"Well... I've not been in contact with the Guild for quite some time. The last time was during... I think it was during the Black Ring Heist."

He said, remembering slightly. Ysolda closed her eyes and shook her head in dismay.

"The Black Ring Heist was nearly a year ago. You really need to go back to the Guild once in a while. Besides, doesn't Nocturnal need you to guard something?"

For a mere merchant who has dealing with the Guild, Ysolda sure does know a whole lot about the Guild and Nocturnal.

"The Nightingales are the agents of Nocturnal but we are allowed to do as we please. Besides, I don't need to be at the Guild twenty-four-seven. That's what Brynjolf is there for."

"... What an irresponsible Guild Master. Well, that is more like you."

Ysolda giggled, making him blush slightly.

"Going back on topic, the goods are being transported by carriage and as luck were to have it, they have stopped in Whiterun for the night though I'm sure you're already aware of that."

Ysolda pointed in the direction of the inn. He could not help but smile at that.

"Luck... is a fickle mistress."

"They're staying over there for the night but you have to watch out. They have booked the entire inn and the guards seem to be armed to the teeth."

"What more can you tell me about the merchant?"

He asked, to which Ysolda simply opened her outstretched hand to him. He looked at her with a questioning look before sighing, reaching into his pocket and pulling out some coins and placing it in her palm. She smiled and pocket the coins.

"All extra services need to be earned. As for the merchant, no one really knows much about him. He doesn't seem to be from around this region. Some claim him to be working for the Thalmor but who knows. It is best to be careful around him. We don't have enough information on what he is capable of."

He smiled at that, pulling his hood over his head.

"Doesn't matter. What matters is that he has what I want."

* * *

Night fell upon Whiterun quickly and the streets emptied as the people of Whiterun went back to their homes. The night streets were a huge contrast to how it looked like during the day. Only the occasional guard kept patrol of the streets. The town guards would not be a problem until after the theft as he had not done anything against the law. Yet. Still, his record with the guards were colourful to the point of him being careful not to arouse any suspicion from them. Making his way slowly towards the inn, he checked his equipments once more. This was the sort of thefts that he did not really like, but thrived in; the unplanned heist. From what he could gather from Ysolda, the merchant isn't some ordinary run-of-mill merchant. Some claim him to be a worlock but if that were the case then the Thalmor would not want to have anything to do with him. And if he were a powerful worlock, wouldn't they normally want to keep such powerful magical artefacts for themselves? There wasn't much time for him to act so he had to go in without surveying the area, without properly detailing how the guards moved and what was his escape route going to be like. All he had to work with was his memory on how Whiterun looked like and a few gossips. Since this was something originally meant for the college, he thought he would ask the Mage something but she disappeared when he returned to the house of the Thane. Lydia, the housecarl, had told him that the Mage left in order to find some herbs. He wanted to get the dark brotherhood's Listener to help him but she was snoring away without any sign of waking. The elven ranger was on a shopping spree and their enigmatic 'leader', if one were to call him as such, was still talking with the Thane. Truth be told he had never heard 'that guy' say a word. So it must be the Thane doing most of the talking. What a boring conversation. Slinking around the shadows, he made his way towards the back of the inn. He was sure he had left one of the windows loosened during one of his past heists. No one would be bothered to use the windows and he had always wondered why. Windows were the perfect getaway spot and the perfect way into most buildings. Why don't most people actually think of it? Actually, why doesn't ANYONE think of it? He tried to tell his fellow Guild Thieves once and they were all puzzled and confused by what he was talking about, as though he was speaking a whole different language. Wasn't it NORMAL? ! The Listener also seemed to think so as she would use the windows as well but she did not seem to show the same bewilderment at the lack of common sense from the other people. Back at the situation at hand before he rants in his head more than he should. He sneaked around the back and found the window he used before. Testing it a few times showed that the window was still unlocked. Slowly opening it, he took a peek within and saw that no one was using this small room. Squeezing through the small gap, he managed to slip into the inn without a sound. Surely someone was expecting him to fall in and make a loud thud sound but unfortunately he is a master thief. Even if he would fall he would not make a whole lot of noise. In the first place, he doesn't fall. He lands. Lightly creeping across the small back room of the inn, he peered through the small crack of the door to observe the main floor of the inn. Just as Ysolda had said, the entire inn was filled with large, rough looking men, all with swords and axes ready in their hands as though they were prepared to face an attack. Did someone tip them off about his arrival? It could not be. Ysolda would never sell him out, no matter the price. But she did say he wasn't the only one after these prizes. Perhaps others have attempted the same yet failed. By the looks of things, the artefacts have yet to be stolen but there was something that bothered him. Those guards did not look normal. Their skin looked pale and slightly wrinkled, and their eyes were glossed over. The way their shuffled their feet did not seem normal and their armour looked ancient. Draugr? But... they did not look like they were rotting. A resurrect spell? These were undead mercenaries? That would mean that their summoner was the mysterious merchant. A necromancer. Oh great. Such things were more of Thayran's expertise.

"... Well, not that that will stop me."

He muttered wryly. Pushing the door slightly open, he slipped out of the small back room and into the main hall. If these were really undead mercenaries, their eye sight should not be all that clear. They relied more on their keen sense of smell, not unlike the animals in the wild. As the Guild master of the Thieves Guild, as well as being a Nightingale, he was more than prepared to deal with such situation. He took out a small ring and slipped it on his finger. His figure melted away into the background as the magick of the ring took effect, rendering him invisible to everyone. He took out a small jar no larger than a coin from his pouch and uncorked it before putting it down on the floorboards on its side and rolled it towards the centre of the inn's hall where the fire was still burning. The heat from the fire activated the invisible contents of the small jar and it turned green as the gas leaked out. The smell that came from the jar reeked of rotten vegetables and it was a smell that no one in the entire inn could ignore. Especially those undead mercenaries. And like moths to a flame, the undead guards lumbered towards the smell, groaning and moaning like how most undead sound like. Using this distraction, he crept past the lumbering beasts and made it up the stairs to the second floor. The second floor of the inn in Whiterun only had one room, which led him to question a whole lot of things about this inn, but left it alone for now. He took a peek into the room first, noticing the sleeping figure on the bed had not stirred. He opened the door slightly and stepped into the room. The room of the Whiterun inn was modest at best. Featuring a bed, wardrobe, table, chair and some other random things, the room gave the sense of a simple home. Of course despite there being a wardrobe and other things, the rental fee only covers the bed, nothing else. Makes you wonder what is the wardrobe for. Taking a quick look at the room, he noticed that there seemed to be quite a large amount of bags and chests. No doubt a whole lot to steal from. A whole lot of gold to be made from this one loot. But he had to resist the temptation. The urge to steal everything in sight was extremely tempting and very hard to deny but he had a job to do. He was constantly scolded by everyone else in the group that he tends to steal too many things and when he does steal almost everything in sight, he forgets that he has to carry everything out in order for it to be a successful heist. While he was having his internal debate, his instincts suddenly made him turn to the person on the bed. The person... wasn't breathing? He could not hear the sounds of breathing nor was the body moving like how a normal person would when they slept. If there was one thing that he shared in common with the dark brotherhood listener, besides sneaking around, was that they both knew how to read the situation extremely well. That included seeing the patterns how how people reacted and behaved in order to think up of ways to either get around or go pass obstacles. Planning was his forte was but he was out of his element with this last minute heist. And this was another problem. The person on the bed... wasn't a person. A dead body was lying there instead, and one that was similar to those lumbering guards below. That would mean-

"So you're the master thief who have come to steal my treasure."

A voice spoke up, making him turn, coming face to face with an old man who sat by the corner of the room smoking on a pipe. The old man wore an intricate lavish purple robe, his fingers decorated with gold rings that had many other precious gems in their sockets. His skin was pale but he was clearly alive. Something was clearly wrong with this merchant.

"It is interesting how you managed to slip pass my guards with the use of gas. Come, why don't you take off that invisibility ring of yours and we can have a nice talk. Like how real gentlemen do."

The merchant spoke with a sense of victory in his voice. Unfortunately for the merchant, he was sharper than most people and had a keen eye for the slightest details. The merchant wasn't looking at him. The merchant knew that he was here in the room, but is unable to pinpoint his exact location. He could use this to his advantage. He closed his eyes for the moment before he reached for his ring. He gripped onto it and took a slight deep breath before pulling the ring off his finger. But unexpectedly, he stayed invisible. Or at least unexpectedly to some who did not know that while he is a master thief, he is also a Nightingale. A Nightingale who is able to use the shadows to hide his presence completely, and not just invisibility. He toss the ring in a manner at the other end of the room that made the ring roll towards the merchant once it hit the floor despite being thrown in the opposite direction. This caught the merchant off guard as he expected the ring to come from another place, and not to mention that the intruder was still out of sight.

"W-what are you? ! What sorcery is this? ! I demand you show yourself to me! Now!"

The merchant shouted, losing his composure fast. He grabbed a nearby old-looking staff and pointed it towards the cadaver on the bed. A dark aura surrounded the tip of the staff as well as the cadaver and soon the body rose up and started to get off the bed in search of prey.

'So, that staff is what's controlling these undead. Interesting. Could be worth a fortune.'

He thought inwardly to himself. Fortunately, when invoking the spells of the Nightingale, he had also managed to erased his smell. The spell was like sliding into a different dimension but he was still connected to the one he was in, everything else wasn't. The undead simply wandered about the room with no clear aim or goal, making the merchant extremely frustrated.

"Where are you! I know you're still in here!"

Obviously he wasn't going to show himself but now how should he get through this situation? He had more or less alerted the entire nest of danger so there was no backing out now. It would have been very much easier if everything went silently. Well, they still could. Walking casually past the lumbering undead, he made his way to the bags and chests. The merchant was still waving his staff everywhere so he still did not know where he was. This was getting too easy. He paused for the moment. Too easy? He took another careful look at the bags and chests. Any merchant with this sort of protection would never put such valuables in bags that would be easily accessed to. Chest were large, had locks and could hold such valuables but there was something about the merchant's actions that bothered him. If the merchant was truly worried for his goods, which it seems he is, then wouldn't he run straight to his chests? Though he may be a necromancer, he is still a normal Imperial human. They are predictable in their behaviours all the time. And his free hand seems to be gripping onto the side of the robes awfully tight.

'... Too easy.'

He thought inwardly. So the treasure was with the merchant himself. No surprise there. Time to test his pick-pocketing skills. Walking over to the merchant, he had to position himself in the right position but the merchant was constantly turning around, making him walk in circles.

'Doesn't this guy get dizzy?'

He thought grudgingly as he made another circle to follow the merchant's orientation. He may be a master thief who can pick the pockets of people running in the opposite direction without them knowing it. He could even strip the clothes off a person without his knowledge but this was... a little too much for him.

'... This has to stop.'

He thought to himself as it took from his pocket a small needle. He could kill everything in order to steal but that wasn't his method. Besides, who wants to see this old man naked anyway? Taking another small jar from his pocket, he opened the jar and dipped the needle in its liquid contents. Using the needle, he aimed at the merchant and swiftly pricked the skin of the merchant. It was a light prick and since the merchant was still floundering about in a state of panic, he did not seem to notice the slight pinch from the needle. And it wasn't long before the merchant suddenly collapsed onto the floor, dropping his staff. It wasn't any deadly poison, but rather just a sleeping potion. He wasn't Alexia so he isn't going to kill anyone. He knelt down and reached his hand into the robes of the merchant. Something he is really reluctant to do but since that was where the prize was, that was where he would look at. Rummaging through the robes for a while, he finally pulled out a small leather bag with some things within. Looking inside, he found the prize. Seven small clear orbs that had some sort of coloured mist swirling within. These were the Dragon balls? They were as small as marbles! What sort of money were these worth? Maybe only to the right people it would be worth a fortune but no ordinary fence would buy such things at a high price. And who were the right people? The college, that meant Thayran and the archmage wasn't someone he liked to deal with. Most likely scenario? She would fry his head until he gave these orbs back to her for free. So much for that.

'... I guess I'll loot the rest to find something of value.'

He sighed, turning his attention to the rest of the valuables.

* * *

After searching for hours, he realized that once again, his old habits were at it again. His pockets were overflowing with stolen items and he was still adamant about dragging a bag along with him. And yes, don't forget the merchant himself. His robes looked very valuable. As he was taking off the clothes of the merchant, he stood up and turned to leave but noticed two things. One; the undead guards were still around and the one in the room with him was still standing at the door way. Two; he really couldn't run anywhere with the amount of loot was carrying. Old habits die hard. He really has to teach himself how to restrain himself from nicking every single object in sight. He looked around for a solution to his problems and after awhile, he found it. The staff.

* * *

"There you go, seven dragon orbs to be returned to the college."

He said, dropping the leather pouch on the table. Thayran was suspicious of his words for the moment before she took the pouch and looked within.

"... I see you've done well this time. Saves me the trouble of burning up your hair again."

Thayran said with a slight smile, pocketing the leather pouch.

"Still, did you managed to get something to sell?"

Sylvian asked, slightly curious about the events of the night before.

"Knowing him, he probably robbed the place blind again and had to walk it out once more."

The archmage muttered, to which he smiled.

"Ah, but you are wrong this time, my tiny magick friend. I managed to sell everything and did not even carry a single thing."

He proudly said, earning looks from the others at the table.

"I used the merchant's staff to command his undead mercenaries to carry my loot for me. Of course the staff crumbled into pieces shortly after I sold the loot but nonetheless I got it all sold."

He smiled. The people at the table were having slightly conflicting thoughts on the use of necromancy, Sylvian in particular.

"And the merchant?"

Thayran asked, slightly curious and wanting to change the subject. He only smiled at her.

"Oh, he should be waking up in the middle of a troll cave by now with no clothes on and having a whole lot of undead statues in a circle around him with no way to control them."

"... You're evil, you know that?"

"Evil is that sleeping listener over there. I'm doing, what you might call, karma."


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: So for the assassin... the brotherhood is really a faction, or at least by my standards. They are like... a hidden quest line or something. Well, not so hidden with so many people talking about a psychotic kid trying to murder an old lady. When thinking of the assassin, I could not help but put in various mods that I've played with over the past... year or two? How long has Skyrim been out?

Anyway, I've been playing with the mods for some time and soon came to realise, why not put the 'assassin's creed' stuff in here too? Well, I'm breaking a hell lot of walls for this so what the heck. Her hidden blades, instead of being under her arm like in assassin's creed, is on top of her forearm. In the first place, weren't hidden blades put there in all past games? Why change the location now?

* * *

**Skyrim Adventures**

**Chapter 6**

**Talking is tiring**

There was much that she would like to do. Despite her usual sleeping habits, she was actually quite the busy person. Like sleeping, sleeping, sleeping, sleeping, killing, sleeping, sleeping and more sleeping. And lastly one more killing. Such were the daily activities of her life, she certainly did not have whole lot of free time and keeps a very busy schedule. She opened one eye, peeking from under her hood. Everyone at the table was preoccupied with their own devices. Thayran was looking through her grimoire and adding new notes in it. Most likely more observations of their foreign Elven companion. Sigfrid had already retired for the night so he was back in the room snoring away in his armour. They guy never takes it off, even in the baths or so she heard. Kevex was counting his lockpicks and making sure they were all in the correct shape. She had her own set of lockpicks but she never really bothered to count them. If she ran out of locks, she would simply force her way in. Or find another way to her target.

Sylvian, the foreign elf, seemed to be carving a flute from a piece of wood she found some time back. She knew that the elf tended to make her own weapons and clothes, extremely self-reliant and independent. She, like most of the others in the group, found the elf quite fascinating. Maybe she found the elf fascinating whole different ways as well but she wasn't going to say that out loud. Not when her actions were quite clear. As for 'him', 'he' talking to the innkeeper, if you could consider him as 'talking' in the first place. Probably asking for the latest gossip or collecting some bounties for the Jarl. That guy seriously needs to put down his workaholic attitude for the moment.

They were still in the middle of returning priceless artefacts and he wants to take on more quests? He needs to learn more from her. Sleeping is the best thing anyone can do. If only they could do it for more than twenty four hours at a go. The inn they were staying was a quiet one, situated somewhere along the road towards Riften sitting by itself surrounded by tall trees. The group would have missed it if Sigfrid hadn't spooked his horse by transforming halfway into his werewolf form by accident. Thayran had theorised that the reason Sigfrid suddenly transformed was mainly due to his lack of sleep during the previous week when they were chasing those Thalmor nearly halfway across Skyrim. The Thalmor had decided to that stealing a sacred artefact from a Jarl was a good idea, and the idea also went on to killing a whole contingent of guards in order to get to that artefact was also something likeable. Whether the Thalmor stole the object because it had some sort of weird magical properties, or that they did it whilst framing the Imperial Legion for the deed in order to force the Jarls to take their backing away from the Legion, it did not seem to matter to them as they chased the Thalmor all the way to Markath and left some very dead elves somewhere along the mountain path to be animal food. Or troll food, whichever comes first.

Now they were heading to Riften to return the artefacts, much the chagrin of Kevex, who really wanted to sell the artefacts as he claimed to know a 'buyer' who was willing to pay a good price for these pieces of wood carvings. Really, why did the Nord value such stuff? The most they did was to make you feel healthy, or so Thayran would say. Plus to health, or something like that. Of course Sigfrid had to beat Kevex into a bloody mess in order for the Thief to finally agree that returning the artefacts was the right thing to do. And then they ended up at this inn to rest up for the night. They weren't too far from Riften, maybe another day or two more on horseback and they would reach the city gates of the infamous city. But they were thankful to find this inn as no one in the group wanted to stay another night out in woods, especially not when it was raining like the Divines were having a party. Leaning back in her chair, she observed the overall layout of the inn.

It was a habit that she picked up as she trained as one of the most lethal and efficient assassins in the history of the Dark Brotherhood. But while she is extremely deadly and well respected in her order (as well as feared by all), she is not without her own quirks. Not that she would actually call them quirks. For one, she didn't like wearing the 'standard' Brotherhood clothes. Dressed in an elaborate white tunic with pants, she had a cloak with a hood that hid her face well. She also had a simple cloth around her neck that she could bring up to cover half of her face. Her boots were made for harsh and mountainous terrains, as well as sporting several hidden 'surprises'. Her leather gauntlets hid several weapons as well and her own arsenal of weapons did not stop there. Well versed in dagger, swords, bows and just about anything she could find, she was a walking weapons master. To an assassin, everything and anything was a weapon. Even the enemy themselves if need be. Her dressing was considered odd as unlike the other Assassins, she chose to wear white, and her clothes were certainly one of a kind. And yet she is still able to remain undetected whenever she goes about with her work. Another quirk of hers was the fact she sleeps a whole lot.

No one really knows why but she is able to sleep for an entire day without anyone able to wake her, unless they were under attack, in which case she would immediately be awake and be killing those who would dare disturb her rest. She is even able to sleep on her own horse. There was one point where she was in the middle of following her target and she actually fell asleep. While she missed what would seem like many opportune moments to strike a kill, she simply slept and when she woke, she just walked straight into the target's residence with such timing that none of the guards on patrol saw her at all. Her timing was so precise that even the target did not see her nor her blade when she slit his throat. The last of her quirks, if you were to call it such, was that she had an extremely accurate intuition. And that intuition was acting up now. She took her feet off the table and got up from her seat, making the others at the table puzzled by her sudden actions. She walked over to the front door and stood by its side, checking on her leather gauntlet. No sooner did she wait that the door burst open with a whole group of armed men were standing outside. the first tried to walk in but she raised her hand to bar his entry. Before the man could say a word, the side of the gauntlet sprung out a blade, slicing at his throat. As the first intruder fell, she stepped out from the side and stood at the doorway as the other intruders all drew their weapons. She merely stood there at the door way, eyeing the enemies with her hands by her side.

With a slight clench of her fists, blades came out from her gauntlets over her hands. These were her primary weapons, the hidden blades. Using dwavern technology with gears and springs, she worked with a few brilliant, though eccentric, blacksmiths to create her whole arsenal of weaponries The blades were hidden under the leather gauntlet that protected her forearms. They could be manipulated to come out from the side, as she used to kill the first intruder, or to extend out over her fist, as present. One of the blacksmiths had suggested using smaller, thinner blades to come out from under her hand but another blacksmith immediately told the first that 'such weapons were an infringement of copy rights', whatever that meant. Back to the intruders. Obviously they were not surprised by the demise of their comrade so they were really here for them. She pulled the cloth around her neck up, covering her face till her nose. Her smile now slightly hidden under the cloth. With the storm thundering out loudly, she could not hear her comrades all rushing to her aid. It would not be necessary.

She stepped out of the doorway, before her figure disappeared. Reappearing behind one of the intruders, she did not hesitate and struck her blades into his back, pulling her hands away and cutting through his body cleanly, making the body fall apart into two onto the ground. The next attacker charged straight at her but she bent back to avoid the horizontal swing of his axe, using the momentum and back-flipped while using her boot to hit his chin. Her boot had small blades at its tip and at the heel and using the tip blade she drove it straight into his head under under his chin, sending the attacker flying into the air. She landed on her feet and charged straight crossing her arm blades and swinging them apart from one another at the falling body, cleaving it into two. A dagger flew towards her but she twisted her body, avoiding the dagger by a hair's breath. Just as the dagger flew past her, she reached out and grabbed it in mid-flight, spinning her body around and throwing it back at its thrower. The dagger flew straight and true, hitting the attacker square on the head. It was at this point that the rest of the group had arrived and started to take on the intruders. With the arrival of the rest, the intruders were quickly dispatched off and they regrouped back at the inn. Though wet and tired, they were more worried about what this sudden intrusion meant.

"It has to be the Thalmor. No one else knew about where we are and what we are trying to do."

Kevex said, drying out his boots by the fire.

"But they weren't Thalmor."

Thayran replied, trying to sort through one of the attacker's belongings in order to search for clues.

"Maybe mercenaries?"

Sylvian tried to offer some ideas.

"If they were, then they would have to be the most dedicated band of mercenaries I've seen. Or maybe the dumbest."

The others began to talk amongst themselves on possible suspects, but for her, it wasn't necessary. She knew who sent these people. It wasn't the Thalmor and to be honest, it had nothing to do with the rest of the group. The intruders were here for her. She pushed herself off the wall and headed towards the door, but standing between her and the door, was 'him'. He merely looked at her silently and she merely looked back. After a minute of silence, he stepped aside with a slight nod. He knew what she was trying to do. She pulled her hood over her eyes and walked past him and out of the door. She had some unfinished business to take care of and he was letting her finish it. Sometimes she had to wonder if their mysterious 'leader' was all-knowing? Or simply acting that way? Either way, she will take this chance to end this threat.

* * *

The target was moving from town to town, never staying in one spot. No doubt the failed attempt on her life was the cause of this precautionary measure. This time it was Riften, the city of thieves. She arrived into the city at mid-day, the time when the market was at its busiest and people filled the streets with chatter and gossips. She had decided that using her normal horse to get to Riften as quickly as she did would not suffice, thus she summoned Shadowmere, a dark horse granted to her, the Listener of the Dark brotherhood as a gift from Sithis, the Brotherhood's dark Deity. By now the storm had past and the people were once again out of their houses to go about with their usual lives. She had no doubt in her mind that at least a quarter of these people in the market were thieves or had some affiliation to the thieves' guild.

Kevex would know best but he wasn't here at the moment. Still, the Brotherhood and the Guild had worked closely hand-in-hand from time to time and there were several 'understandings' between the two groups. They do not mess with one another, add each other if possible, and do not go after the same target. She walked over to a lone bench at the side of the market under the shade of the building it was at. Sitting down at the bench, she closed her eyes for the moment. She suddenly felt someone sitting down on the bench next to her and that was when she opened her eyes but did not turn to see who sat next to her.

"Fancy meeting you here, Listener."

The young Khajhit who sat next to her said, chewing on a stick of horker meat. The two never looked at one another, but constantly looked in front of them at the busy market.

"... You know what I'm here for."

She spoke softly, to which he merely grinned.

"Oh yes, I do not know what you're here for."

She reached over by her belt and took a small leather pouch from her belt, putting it down on the bench in the space between them. The Khajhit took the pouch and kept it without looking at its contents. He knew her well enough to trust her.

"Your target is currently hiding out at one of the houses on the lower levels of the city. Third on the left from the Apothecary."

"I see."

She said before getting up to her feet.

"Don't you want to know how they managed to track you down? Or why did they choose to strike now?"

He asked, to which she merely pulled the cloth around her neck over her mouth.

"... Don't need to know the reasons of a dead man."

She merely said, turning in the direction she needed to go towards.

"I'll leave the clean up to you."

She muttered before leaving the young Khajhit who merely sighed.

"As always."

* * *

She stepped lightly onto the wooden planks that made the board walk at the lower levels of Riften. With a river running through the town, these lower levels were home to the less wealthy or the shady sort of people. Scum, as some of the town guards would call them. The lower levels were also home to the Rat way, the secret passage that led to the Thieves Guild, as well as some shops that sold rather interesting objects. But enough about that. Her target was in one of the houses occupying the lower levels. Unlike Kevex, who prefers to work at night, she would work at anytime, anywhere. She walked towards the house in question. It did not stand out nor did it seem have any sort of guards standing outside. Over confidence? Or simply trying to disguise the entrance as a normal house?

She knew her target well enough to know that it had to be one of those options. He was here, no doubt about it. She tested the door knob, finding it unlocked. An invitation? Or a trap? No matter. She looked around her. No one was on these lower levels. It wasn't odd but rather slightly... uncomfortable. She turned the door knob and headed inside. The interior was small and cramp, unlike the sparse layout of the city outside. The small home had little things that could be considered furniture and even fewer spaces that allowed movement, made so by the number of armed men standing in the room. Sitting at the end of the small room was an old man, leaning back on a chair by himself. He looked directly at her and did not seem all too surprised by her intrusion.

"... So, you've come at last, assassin of the Brotherhood."

The man muttered with a slightly disheartened smile on his face. She eyed the armed mercenaries that stood between her and the old man. They did not seem afraid of her, nor did they seem to be on any guard against her.

"You need not worry of these men, they were instructed not to lift a finger until I say so."

The old man said, making her shift her focus back onto him.

"... You are going to die."

She merely said, to which the man lowered his head.

"I know. I hired these mercenaries to kill you but seeing as how you have managed to decimate the previous few attempts on your life, I presumed as much that any further attempts would be futile. I've known it all this while, that you're simply an assassin. You're paid by whoever contracts you. My daughter may be innocent but someone clearly wanted her dead in order to hire you. It should not be your fault but as I was blinded by rage, I did something irreversible. And so I have angered the sleeping dragon and have forfeited my own life."

The old man muttered, waving a hand. The mercenaries all nodded and headed towards her. But it wasn't her that they were after. One by one, the mercenaries stepped out of the house and closed the door behind them, leaving only her and the old man alone.

"Those mercenaries are good. They are focused and well trained. Obviously no match for you or the people in the group you travel with, but they are strong. It is unfortunate that I made them go after the wrong person."

The old man sighed, leaning back in his chair while picking up a goblet of wine and taking a sip of it.

"I guess since I have tried to attack you before, you will not simply let me go even if all of this was just a mistake?"

He asked, to which she merely stayed silent. He nodded with a smile at her answer.

"I guessed as much. Well, do what you must, assassin. I am more than ready for it. But if you may, tell me who ordered the hit on my daughter? I do not have enough to contract you to hunt down that person, but I have already paid the mercenaries outside to do it. All they need to know is who and where."

She walked over to him, her wrist blade sliding out. She reached right before him and to his surprise, she knelt down before him.

"... It isn't the fact that you attacked me that made you forfeit your life... it is the fact that you tried to kill my comrades. The Night Mother had foreseen your hatred in my life and told me it was up to my own discretion on how I would deal with you. I had thought to leave you alone despite your multiple attempts on me, but you crossed the line when you ordered your mercenaries to attack others, and not me. I will not blame you for this, however as long as you live, my comrades will not rest easy."

She said, pulling down the cloth from her face, revealing herself to the old man.

"... I see. I guess then it cannot be helped. Do what you deem necessary."

The old man said before closing his eyes. She leaned over closely, close enough for her to whisper to his ear directly.

"As for the man who put the contract on your daughter. He was simply a womanising noble who was refused by your daughter to bed with him. Though the contract made by him cannot be annulled, I had personally made sure that he did not see another Sun rise after that night."

She whispered to the old man's ear, making him smile as a tear streaked down his cheeks.

"Ah... That is all I needed to hear."

He said, before she thrust her blade into his abdomen. The old man's body slumped against hers as his life was extinguished. She pushed the body back into the seat and withdrew her blade before getting back up to her feet. Taking out a cloth, she wiped her blade clean of the blood and poison she coated the blade with. The poison she used was a numbing agent, completely dulling out any pain inflicted. With that, the old man did not feel any pain in death. She had dealt with many death threats and attempts on her life from vengeful relatives or friends of her targets but she always took them on, no matter what. She knew what her job was like, she knew the risks and what it would mean.

She was the Listener of the Dark Brotherhood. She was their leader and the strongest Assassin there is, but that did not mean she had no heart, no justice in her life. She was an assassin who knew what was right and wrong. Even if Babette were to argue that they were simply assassins who did killings for coin or joy, she herself would not indulge in such things. She wasn't a hero or an ally of justice. She was simply an assassin who chose to do she felt was right. She turned and headed towards the door. Just as she reached the door, she paused and glanced over to the corpse of the old man.

"... May Sithis guide you."

She muttered, before pulling the cloth over her mouth once more and leaving the house.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: In order for proper 'racial' balance, I had to throw in the other races as well.

It adds more life to the story so why not? They aren't part of the main group but will appear from time to time.

* * *

**Skyrim Adventures**

**Chapter 7**

**Furballs**

It hardly seems to be an appropriate time for anything with this group. He stroked his furred chin as he mused at how this little band of mismatched, over powered people seem to get things done while still having problems trying to stay together. It wasn't as though they couldn't work together, rather it was their individual personalities that made this little group all the more interesting.

"So, M'Kuir, any news on latest Dragon sightings?"

Sigfrid asked, poking the camp fire with a stick to stoke the flames.

"Not at this moment, my friend."

He replied coolly. Sigfrid Nibelung, the newest Harbinger of the Companions. Not many know of the Companion's Inner circle being made up of Werewolves but he knew that the Harbinger had things under control. He is, after all, a control freak.

"Don't go poking around for bad news when we don't need it."

Thayran muttered, peering over her large grimoire to glare at the Harbinger. Thayran, the Archmage of the College of Winterhold. Her short stature being the result of some failed experiment that made her revert back to her younger self and she had stayed that way for the many years up to now. No doubt the envy of many women around Tamriel. However to the Archmage it was merely a limitation on her own power and her fuse was just as short as she was.

"Eh? Did you say something you little furball?"

She glared at him with one of her gloves igniting in flames.

"N-no! Not at all!"

He quickly said, making the mage narrow her eyes at him while putting away her flaming hand.

"Ha ha ha! Serves you right for pissing her off! Well, it just takes the focus off me being the target practice all the time."

Kevex laughed, leaning back on the fallen log he used as a back support. Kevex, the newest Guild master of the Thieves Guild. It wasn't a large secret that he, Bryjolf and Karliah were also Nightingales. Shadow Agents sworn to protect their guardian deity, the daedric Prince Nocturnal. Though their identities were not a secret, it was still not known the extent of their abilities as Nightingales, nor was it known how they were chosen or what their duties were suppose to entail as the three never seem to ever go to the Twilight Sepulcher where Nocturnal's shrine was. What sort of guardians of a daedric prince were they if they never went to protect the shrine in the first place?

"You're still going to pay for the damage you did to my alchemic set."

Thayran muttered, snapping her fingers and setting Kevex's hair on fire.

"Ah! My hair! Again!"

As the dark Elf began running around again, a usual scene for this band, he turned his eyes to the Assassin, who was sleeping soundly on top one of the lower brunches of a nearby tree. At this point the Assassin would usually do something to the thief that would make him fall into the ground. Alexia, the Dark Listener of the Dark Brotherhood. Silent, deadly and shrouded in mystery. Not many know just how the leader of the legendary Assassins looked like under her hood as she constantly kept her face hidden as much as possible. This group of 'merry' comrades had probably seen her without her hood and mask before but he could not say the same for himself. She rarely revealed herself to others and usually when she did, that person wouldn't live long. But other than that, she was a rather easy going person, contrary to what people may think of the Assassins of her order. Okay, so she is an extremely oddity in that category, but her skills are unrivalled, that much he was certain of.

"... Has she been sleeping all day up in that tree?"

He asked the others.

"Hm? Oh, yeah. She finished some contract the night before and came back in the morning all tired and covered in mud."

Thayran muttered, scribbling down some notes in her book.

"Mud? Did she fail her contract? How rare."

He mused, stroking his furred chin once more.

"Nah, she probably didn't fail. She just fell into a mud pond on her way back."

The mage replied.

"Ah, the usual."

"Yup, the usual."

He was sure that the Assassin simply fell asleep on her way back and slipped off her horse. It wasn't like the Listener to simply fall off her horse even when she was asleep on horseback, but it had happened before. Not everyone was perfect.

"Huh? Aren't you M'Kuir?"

A young sweet voice made him turn. Stepping into the small clearing of the camp site were two individuals. An Elf unlike any elf he knew of, and a Nord clad in full iron armour.

"Ah, what a sweet sight to see you once more, my fair maiden, lady Sylvian."

He got up and gave a little bow to her as she walked up to him. Without warning, she gave him a rather tight hug.

"Ah! This fur! It's so soft to touch!"

She squealed, nearly giving him a death choke if it weren't for the Nord who pulled her off him, shaking his head to her actions.

"Aww, but it's so nice to touch!"

She sulked, still having her hungry eyes on him. Or his fur, whichever it was. He sighed, having gotten some breathing room at last. Her death grip was painful each time she saw him but he did not really mind. He was proud of his fur, after all.

"Ahem, s-so, where have the two of you gone? Scouting, I presume?"

He asked, changing the subject. The Elf nodded her head as she sat down by the fire. This Elf, if one were to call her that, was unlike any race he had seen in Tamriel, and he had seen a whole lot of races in his travels. Her young, soft and smooth features complimented her well shaped figure that was outlined by her thin travelling clothes that hugged onto her skin tightly. She had a presence of such tranquillity about her that nothing else seemed to matter. But while she may look like she came directly from the Divines themselves, her behaviour was... somewhat odd. Her understanding of Tamriel was limited at best but he guessed it was mainly due to her recent arrival on the continent that resulted in her not knowing some basic customs. Like wearing undergarments. Did her people really choose not to wear them?

"There were some ruins up ahead and I wanted to make sure there wasn't any form of danger coming out of it to attack us in the middle of the night. Tonight will be a peaceful one."

She replied, reaching over to her pouch and grabbing out a small wooden flute that she probably carved. She placed the flute to her lips and closed her eyes as she slowly played a tune. The song she played was a soft, peaceful song yet held a strange sense of sadness to it. All in the camp stopped their activities to listen to her song. The peaceful tranquillity washed over them, sedating their anxieties and soothing their pains. Even the sleeping Assassin, Alexia, seemed to be awake to listen in. Indeed, this elf's presence and ability was a complete mystery. Her prowess with a bow was unrivalled and her dexterity in handling her own twin thin swords was nothing to laugh about. As he leaned back in his position on the forest floor, listening to the song, his mind wondered to the reason why she had come to the continent. She would not say exactly what, but merely claimed to be searching for something. Or someone.

* * *

"How much further, M'Kuir?"

Sigfrid asked him, to which he turned around, seeing how the rest of the group were all following behind him in an organized line, all shielding themselves from the strong harsh winds of the mountain tops. He pulled down the scarf that covered his face, letting the cold air frost his breath.

"Not much further, my friends."

He replied, heaving his backpack up for better support.

"Just how accurate is your information?"

Kevex asked out loudly, making him curl the sides of his mouth slightly up.

"As accurate as you would like it, my friend. You've trusted my information for all of your heists, so why doubt them now?"

Kevex wanted to say something back but stopped himself. Satisfied, he smiled and pulled the cloth back over his mouth. The cold air wasn't good for his nose. They trekked up the mountain path till they reached a giant complex carved into the mountain.

"Now that's something you don't see everyday."

Thayran muttered.

"You don't see much of anything carved into mountain tops anyway."

Kevex replied smugly whilst reaching into his coin pouch and grabbing a few coins, grudgingly handing them to Alexia, who happily pocketed the gold.

"Well then, so stop wasting time and head inside."

Sigfrid said, taking the lead to the entrance. As for him, he would most rather stay near the back at this point in time. The kind of fights in store for them inside would be best suited for the professionals. He could hold his own if he wanted to, but why waste effort when you can let others do the work for you?

"... What are you really planning, M'Kuir?"

Thayran asked, standing behind him.

"Hm? Whatever do you mean?"

He asked innocently, but she did not buy it.

"... Telling us of this hidden Temple of a Dragon Priest and even leading us to it. You're after something in there, aren't you?"

As expected of the Archmage, she was sharp.

"... Fine, we'll find out at the end anyway."

She muttered, walking ahead of him.

"... Yes... we will find out at the end."

* * *

It wasn't long after the group entered the temple that it became apparent to them that this temple was home to no ordinary draugr. Armed with elaborate armour and weapons, the draugr seemed to be well trained, even if they were simply undead husks of former men. Tougher, stronger and well armed. These sorts of combinations were usually a sign of something very powerful within.

"The draugr get tougher the further we head in."

Sigfrid said, pulling out his two handed axe from the corpse of a fallen enemy.

"Well, that is to be expected. But they don't seem to be carrying anything of value."

Kevex replied, squatting down next to one of the draugr bodies and became searching it for loot.

"They're dead warriors, Kevex, not some merchant dressed up in fancy armour."

Sigfrid shot back, unhappy with the way the thief was treating the dead but did not say anything on that matter.

"These are ceremonial armour. With these patterns I would say that they were some form of honour guard."

Thayran muttered, studying the bodies.

"Honour guard? For who?"

Sylvian dared to ask while she pulled out an arrow from a corpse but noticed that the arrow tip was broken so she tossed it away.

"Most likely a dragon priest. And a very powerful one at that. These symbols would represent the ancient Dragon they worshipped. However with these other set of symbols, it would contradict the theory that they were serving a mere dragon priest-"

Thayran went on ranting about more things that did not really register with the rest of the group so they merely ignored her for that moment, though maybe not Sylvian as the elf seemed to take a keen interest in listening.

"Hey, M'Kuir, aren't you here for something as well?"

He looked up at the call of his name. Kevex was done looting the corpses and now looking through the pots and burial urns.

"... What makes you say that?"

He asked.

"I may not be as smart as Thayran, but I know a catch when I see one."

The thief replied, tossing out the dirt that was inside an urn only to find two pieces of gold. Well, he did not expect his goals for this expedition to go completely unnoticed forever. This group was, after all, the strongest band of adventurers Skyrim would ever see. The leaders of all major factions in one place? Travelling together? To not mention the legendary Dragonborn and an Elf of unknown origins and strength.

"Hmm... Well, there is something I heard about this place so I was hoping to find out more about it."

He admitted.

"By 'something' you mean 'something of value', am I right?"

Kevex smirked, to which he merely smiled back politely.

"It is of value, but not in the manner in which you are familiar with."

"Hmm... So that means that there is something that is either important, or powerful."

This thief is sharp. Like he said before, he may not be smart but he is sharp. He expected no less from the Master of the Thieves Guild.

"You got me there, my elvish friend."

He sighed, raising his hands in defeat. Kevex smiled and nodded.

"So, mind telling us what exactly is it you're looking for?"

By now Alexia and Sigfrid had joined in on this conversation, stepping forward to surround him. They did not look all too happy.

"I guess I will indulge you. A few weeks back, I perchance upon an ancient scroll. On it detailed the location to this very location. I do not know what exactly is in here but the scroll did point to something of great magical power and importance to the Dragons."

"Dragons? Not Dragon priests?"

Sigfrid asked, to which he nodded.

"Yes, to the Dragons themselves. I have no idea what is it that is kept hidden in these ruins but I plan to find out. And since your little group is considered Skyrim's foremost experts on Dragons, I figured it would be best to get you all into this expedition as well."

The three who stood around him looked to one another, before nodding.

"Alright, since this is about Dragons, we can deal with it. But why didn't you tell us about it before?"

"I assumed that your quest for the World Eater would overshadow any other small detail. Besides, I did say that I am uncertain on what sort artefact, if any, are in here. It may have been robbed centuries back and I would not know for certain."

He admitted.

"Well, it's not like we would completely ignore it, since it is linked to the Dragons. Anyway, how 'leader' here would most likely take on your strange request. He's that sort of person anyway."

Sigfrid glanced over to the Dragonborn's direction. He followed the Harbinger's gaze for the moment before smiling.

"Yes... I see now that I was wrong to conceal my motives. For that, I apologise."

He tipped his head low for a while as a gesture. The Harbinger for the Companions sighed as they got something out of the way.

"Well, now that that's done, let's hurry up and carry on- Kevex... are you seriously planning on bringing along so many items?"

* * *

The group fought their way through the draugr infested ruins as they headed further in. The temple seemed to be built deep into the mountains and it went much further than what the others expected.

"Just how deep does this place go?"

Kevex wondered out loud as he knelt down to inspect the floor before the group. He traced his finger along the tile before pressing it down. The corridor before the group suddenly had giant axes swinging from the ceilings.

"Did you have to trigger the trap?"

Thayran asked, annoyed by his actions.

"The last few times I outlined the location of a trap, our dumb muscle brain here still manages to activate them. Might as well trip them now so that everyone is aware of what may happen."

Kevex merely replied, getting up to his feet. He looked at Sylvian and nodded in her direction. The elf, seeing how it was her turn, stepped to the front of the group and drew her bow. Taking an arrow from her quiver, she notched it and drew it. She aimed it straight down the corridor of swinging axes and it did not even take her a second to release the shot. The arrow flew straight and true, flying through the corridor, flying pass the axes just as they swung by harmlessly. The arrow flew clear of the trap and hit a lever at the other end. The arrow flipped the lever and with a loud click, the trap was disarmed.

"Phew, as expected of an elite ranger."

Kevex whistled with a smile. Sylvian smiled while keeping her bow.

"It's nothing. But you would think that they would keep the lever for disarming traps in a less conspicuous place."

The elf replied, walking over the disabled trap and casually walked down the corridor.

"I'm more confused by what you did. Seriously, can you really disable a trap just like that with an arrow? Those levers are stone! Not wooden crates or barrels, stone!"

Thayran said, having a slight existential crisis.

"I think your existence, being a half mix of two races and ending up as a three quarter mer is something that needs more believing."

Sigfrid muttered off handedly. Thayran glared at him, raising a finger and touching his armour, sending a small amount of electricity into the Harbinger.

"Ow! What was that for? !"

"For something extremely unnecessary coming out of your mouth. Besides, if you're on about having existences being in question, shouldn't our tourist be in questions as well."

Thayran pointed to the elven ranger who was cluelessly walking ahead of the group, looking at the traps in a somewhat inquisitive manner.

"Well... I can't deny that."

The group continued onwards through the ruins until they reached a pair of large doors at the end of a great hall.

"Mechanism after mechanism."

Sigfrid sighed, inspecting the strange depressions in the large stone tablet that was set up before the locked doors.

"What I don't understand is why do ancient Nords have such elaborate locking mechanisms to ensure the security of their valuables and the most the Jarls of today can do is put one guard in front of a locked door. I mean, where is the security in that? Talk about degeneration of a species."

Thayran muttered.

"Not everyone can live behind a whole bunch of magic barriers like yourself. Besides, makes my job easier."

Kevex smirked. Thayran shot a glare at the thief, before pointing a finger at the dark elf. An icicle formed and flew past the elf's head, grazing his ear.

"OW! Wh-WHAT WAS THAT FOR? !"

"Stop your whining and get the keys for this damn lock out already."

Thayran snapped, making Kevex flinch slightly. Thayran was extremely scary when mad.

"W-what makes you think I have it?"

"You've been looking through every corpse and urn since we got here. You would have stumbled upon the keys by now."

Sigfrid added, making Kevex feel rather insulted that even the Harbinger was thinking the same as the mage.

"Fine fine. I'll take a look."

He sighed, dropping the large bag he carried on his back onto the group. The bag hit the ground with a loud thud and some metal rattling from within the bag. The thief started to look through his bag but as time flew by, it was obvious that this was going to take quite some time.

"..."

Alexia, the silent Assassin, walked over and grabbed onto the thief's bag, hefting it up into the air and turned it upside down, emptying everything in the bag onto the floor.

"HEY! WHAT IN THE NAME OF OBLIVION DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING? ! AH! MY STUFF!"

As Kevex was crying over his spilt goods, Alexia looked around and spotted a small glittering stone. She walked over and knelt down, picking up the stone and stood back up. She noticed that Sigfrid, Thayran and even their leader had done the same thing, each picking up a stone that coloured differently.

"Well, that was fast enough."

Sigfrid said.

"This guy takes too much time to sort out his 'valuables'."

Thayran snorted.

"If you're done with insulting me, can you help me put my things back? After all you have all found your 'keys', right?"

Kevex narrowed his eyes at the rest of the group.

"No."

"No."

"..."

"..."

Were the four replies of the said culprits.

"AREN'T YOU GUYS BEING TOO HARSH ON ME? !"

"I'll help you."

Sylvian said, beginning to pick up things. Being silent till now, he decided to help out as well.

"Well, can't have you dragging the rest of us down because of your whining, can we?"

He said, helping to picking up the dropped goods.

"Although I'm thankful for your help, can't you help without adding another insult, M'Kuir?"

"I am merely admitting the truth."

He said with a slight smile. While the master thief was acting all gloomy and sulking in one corner, the rest of the group huddled around the stone tablet to inspect it on how to figure out the puzzle of the locks.

"Hmm... according to the writings on the stone, it is... hmm?"

Thayran seemed puzzled by what was shown on the stone tablet.

"What is it?"

Sigfrid asked.

"It has some sort of poem... what is it with you Nords and poems?"

"Makes it sounds grand and majestic?"

"You're not even sure yourself?"

"Do I look like an ancient Nord?"

"You're a Nord."

"MODERN NORD."

While Sigfrid and Thayran were arguing, Sylvian took a closer look at the tablet. After a few minutes of studying it, she looked over to Alexia.

"Alexia can I have a look at your stone?"

The elf asked. Alexia quickly nodded and handed to her the stone. The assassin always did hold a soft spot for the foreign elf. A little on the weird side sort of soft spot. Sylvian looked at the stone and back to the tablet. Without hesitation, she placed the stone into one of the depressions on the tablet. The stone fit in snugly and suddenly a weird contraption activated some claw like devices that held onto the stone in its place and the stone itself started to glow.

"Wha- Sylvian, how did you do that?"

Thayran asked, now out of her argument and focused on the new development of things.

"I simply placed the stone in its place."

She elf answered.

"'In its place'... But if you placed it wrongly, a trap could trigger itself. How did you know where to put it? Can you read the poem?"

Thayran asked a how bunch of questions but Sylvian merely shook her head.

"No, I can't read it let alone understand it. I just..."

"Just?"

"... Just felt like it."

The group fell into silence at the elf's answer.

"... Just.. felt like it? What sort of thing is that? ! I can't accept such unscientific methods!"

Thayran snapped.

"'Unscientific'? This coming from the archmage of the college, seems rather unusual."

He smirked though his words were not loud enough to be heard by anyone.

"Like it or not, the fact is that Sylvian knows the answer. I'll entrust this to her."

Sigfrid said, handing the elf the stone he held onto. The leader of the group did the same. All eyes looked to Thayran, who was extremely reluctant at first, but relented in the end.

"Fine! Do whatever you want!"

The mage snapped, shoving the stone in Sylvian's hands.

"I have a feeling that if we entrusted Thayran to do this, we would all end up dead."

Sigfrid said, seeing as how the mage was storming off in a rather violent manner.

"Well, whatever, she'll recover. Sylvian, after you."

The foreign elf nodded and walked over to the stone tablet. She looked at the tablet carefully once more and then to the stones in her hands before she slotted them into the different depressions. Like before, the stone reacted and locked the stones into place. As all four stones were in place and started to glow, the sounds of giant gears turning rumbled throughout the hall as the giant doors before them slowly opened.

"Well... that was... expected?"

He mused.

"No point waiting around, let's go in."

Sigfrid said, taking the lead to enter through the doors.

"Eh? Aren't you all going to make sure you have enough supplies? Or maybe ensure that your healing potions are in a place where you can easily reach for them?"

He asked, somewhat perplexed by the group's sudden readiness to go. Sigfrid turned and smiled at that question.

"What are you talking about? We're always prepared for anything."

At that, he knew that he had just asked an extremely stupid question.

* * *

The group stepped through the doors and ended up in a hall larger than the previous. It was on such a scale that they could hardly see the ceiling of the hall, or make out what was at the other end.

"If I had to guess, this hall makes up approximately 60% of the entire space these ruins take up within the mountains."

Thayran said, rubbing her chin in thought as she did some mental calculations.

"That means that the ruins that we went through were only passageways to lead up to this hall?"

Sylvian asked in wonder and amazement.

"Apparently so."

The group headed deeper in the giant hall until they reached what looked to be a giant circular formation of stones on the ground. The stones were not large nor tall and there was clearly nothing in the centre of the circle formation other than lines cut out into the ground in no seemingly organized manner. All turned to Thayran for answers, who looked back at them rather insulted.

"Does it look like I have all the answers?"

She asked, raising her eyebrow. All in the group just nodded in reply.

"... Well no! I don't know what these are and even if I did, would anything I say make any difference? Look, Kevex is already touching the stones!"

Thayran pointed to where the thief was, having his hand on one of the stones. Without warning, the stones suddenly lit up, causing the lines on the ground to light up as well.

"Er... oops?"

The group stepped back as the stone formation's reactions became violent, with raw magick lashing out all over the place in the form of violent winds and lightning crackling about.

"Wh-what's going on? !"

Sigfrid demanded.

"It's... It's a large summoning spell!"

Thayran finally realized what was happening.

"Summoning? ! Why didn't you realize it earlier? !"

"Because its form is too different from the summoning spells we use now! This is ancient and extremely powerful! The only beings capable of creating use summoning arrays are the Daedra or..."

The Magick from the formation concentrated into the centre and 'melting' into a physical form, was a giant creature with a tough scaled exterior, large leather wings, an elongated head with fire spewing from his mouth.

"... Dragons."

* * *

The group scattered as the large dragon that was summoned before their eyes immediately set its sights on them. Unlike other dragons the group had faced before, this one was large and even that was an understatement. The giant reptile was almost as large as a small town and it easily dwarfed even the size of the giant hall they were in. The group wasted no time in waiting as they drew their weapons. Sigfrid took his two handed sword and charged at the beast as Thayran jumped back and gathered her magick in her hands. Kevex drew his daggers and went in for the flanks while Alexia pulled her mask up, drawing her wrist blades and disappeared from view. Sylvian pulled her hood over her head as she took her bow and notched fire arrows from her quiver. The leader of the group took out his iron shield and took on the beast head-on.

Sigfrid slashed the dragon with his sword but the hide proved too tough and the blade merely bounced off the scales. Thayran summoned a giant ball of crackling electricity, throwing it at the dragon. The electrical storm slammed into the dragon but the beast did not even flinch from the attack. Kevex tried to attack it with his daggers, ramming them at an angle to get at the points where the scales did not protect but the blades merely snapped before they could penetrate. Alexia re-appeared above the beast, bringing her wrist blades down on the beast but her blades could only penetrate slightly and she was forced to jumped away as the tail of the beast swept across where she was. Sylvian fired her arrows, aiming to strike the eyes of the dragon but the dragon was swift, unleashing a breath of fire and incinerated her arrows. The same breath of fire tried to incinerate the leader but he held his shield up to prevent himself from being caught in the flames.

"Obviously this is going to take some work."

Sigfrid muttered, jumping back.

"You think?"

Thayran retorted back sarcastically.

"My blades! These cost a fortune!"

Kevex cried.

"..."

Alexia merely looked at her own wrist blades and noted that they were now blunt at their tips.

"We will have to use better attacks."

Sylvian said, making all agree. Sigfrid used his left hand to grip his two handed sword as he reached behind and grabbed onto his two handed axe. He rarely did this and even when he did he would strained to use it too often. Dual wielding two handed weapons. Thayran jumped back further and used her foot to draw a circle in the dirt around her as she began to focus a large amount of her magick. Kevex, still bitter over the loss of his beloved blades, reached behind and took out a whole set of throwing knives. Alexia pressed a small catch on her leather gauntlets, releasing the blunt wrist blades and taking out replacement from holders strapped to her thighs and fitted them into her leather gauntlets. She then reached behind her for her pouch and pulled out a small bottle of poison, drenching her wrist blades in the deadly solution. Sylvian took out a second quiver and strapped it around her waist. The leader of the group... did the same as before.

"... Well, it's not like he isn't good at what he's doing."

The group attacked once more. Sigfrid swung both of his weapons at the dragon and this time the weapons managed to cut through the hide. Thayran slammed her hands onto the ground, causing the ground beneath the dragon to crack and having giant ice spikes shoot out from underneath, piercing the dragon and pinning it in place. Kevex attached explosive bottles to his throwing knives and threw it at the dragon, causing explosions that weakened the beast. Alexia went in quickly, taking advantage of the wounds caused by the attacks by others and threw her blades into them, letting the poison seep into the flesh of the dragon. Sylvian stabbed multiple arrows into the ground before her and drew arrows and firing them in great numbers and at incredible speeds, her arrows hitting vital areas like the eyes and open wounds. The dragon roared out in pain, breathing fire everywhere in its anguish.

"Time to finish it!"

Sigfrid threw his weapons aside as he transformed into his werewolf form. Thayran unclipped her grimoire and let it float before her as torrents of magicka encircled her. Kevex raised his hand, letting a dark black mist envelope him and transform his armour into his Nightingale armour. Alexia whispered a few phrases and summoned a spectral being in the form of hooded figure holding a scythe that bowed before her and disappeared into a light blue glow that encircled her blades. Sylvian put aside her bow and raised her hand high into the air, whispering words of immense power in a language foreign to all. A bright light shone above her and in her hand was a giant bow made out of light, far larger than something someone would normally carry. She pulled back the bow string and an arrow if light appeared already notched in place.

The leader lowered his shield as he took a deep breath. Sigfrid slashed at the dragon with his claws and sunk his teeth into the hide. Thayran unleashed a giant maelstrom of lightning, ice spikes and fire meteors above the beast. Kevex summoned a dark mist that strangled the dragon and suffocated it. Alexia raised her blades high as an image of a grim reaper appeared behind her, slashing down at the dragon. Sylvian released her arrow of light from her ballista sized bow, the arrow piercing through the dragon's body easily, and finally the leader himself unleashed his true power.

"**FUS RO DAH**!"

* * *

With the dragon's body slowly crumbled away into ashes, the group came back together and noticed that at the other end of the giant hall stood a large piece of stone with strange symbols carved into them and a few chests laid out before the stone piece.

"Gold!"

Kevex shouted in excitement, running straight for the chests without waiting for the others.

"Hmm... So I was right."

Thayran said, walking up to the stone pieces to read the symbols.

"Right about what?"

Sylvian asked.

"These ruins wasn't meant to be a temple for a Dragon Priest. It was a temple for the Dragons. The dragon we just fought was the one being worshipped. His name is slight faded out so I can't read it."

"Why would a Dragon have a temple built in his honour? And why was it so different from the others?"

Sigfrid wondered.

"Well, apparently this Dragon sought power through other realms and using his power, he would traverse different dimensions. While the Dragon could traverse other dimensions freely, he needed humans or mer to anchor his existence back in this realm, so his servants would always be by the portal when he went to other realms. Seems, like Alduin found out about it and did not like how this Dragon was getting stronger so he destroyed the temple, killed all of the followers and ensured that the portal back could never be opened."

Thayran explained.

"But Kevex managed to open it again."

Sylvian pointed out.

"Yes, well, magic seals have a tendency to weaken over time. Kevex merely activated it and summoned the Dragon back from whatever dimension it was in."

"Way to go, Kevex."

Sigfrid muttered sourly, but the thief didn't hear it, being overly excited over the newest loot. The leader of the band joined them at this point.

"Oh? Done with your 'soul absorption'?"

Thayran asked, to which their leader only nodded.

"I see. Well, take a look at this piece. I'm sure you can find some word of power on this immense wall."

The leader nodded once more and walked to one particular section of the stone wall. To the others it seemed as though he was merely standing still but to him, it was something else.

"..."

Sylvian narrowed her eyes at the leader of the group but said nothing.

"... He's done."

She said, and soon, the leader turned and walked back to the group. Thayran did notice the elf's strange change in demeanour, but did not question it.

"... ?"

Their leader looked around, as though looking for something or someone. That was when Sigfrid noticed it too.

"... Hey, where's M'Kuir?"

* * *

Stepping out of the long stone corridor and back out into the open vastness of the outside, he stroked his furred chin as he took out a scroll from his pouch.

"I'm sorry my friends, but this is where our journey together ends... for now. Let's see now.."

He unravelled the scroll and looked over its contents.

"Hmm... yes... I see now... Looks like we'll all be busy real soon."

He smiled to himself as he kept the scroll back in his pouch.

"With the return of the World Eater, these chain of events can not be missed."

* * *

A/N: At this point I had thought about making all of the main party members into Dragonborns but that would make the leader useless.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: So when I was doing the 'gourmet' questline for the brotherhood, I thought it was very funny how the gourmet was an orc. Of course, not to be 'racist' but Orcs aren't exactly known for their 'cooking'. In any fantasy setting. So I decided to use it... again.

* * *

**Skyrim Adventures**

**Chapter 8**

**Hammer and a sweet tooth**

"I can't believe we let that two-faced fur ball run away again!"

Sigfrid groaned, throwing himself onto the wooden floorboards.

"And he didn't take a whole lot of valuable things either... just something from that one pedestal."

Thayran added, leaning against the wooden pillar of the small shed.

"Perhaps that was what he was after all this while?"

Kevex added, peering through the diamond he nicked from the loot earlier.

"Can't you tell what it was?"

The mage asked, to which the thief smirked.

"Oho? So the mighty mage needs my help now? Try begging at my feet and just MAYBE I will think about it?"

Thayran had a nerve snap and she raised her gloved hand, electricity crackling around her finger tips.

"So the brat thinks he can order ME around? He sure has some guts to even try it."

"Heh heh, I've been practising my skills for some time. With Nocturnal by my side, I can even best you- WOAH! Hey! You're starting to summoned a hurricane! Seriously! Stop that! Are you planning to destroy the town? !"

"The brat is now trying to order me around? KNOW YOUR PLACE!"

After a few lightning bolts and having hair being set on fire, the mage was finally restrained and force to cancel her storm spell, letting the sky clear up above the small town.

"So? Mind telling us what was there?"

Sigfrid asked, finally releasing the small mage after she finally cooled off. Kevex scratched his badly burnt head, letting some of his singed hair crumble away.

"Well, from the shape and form of the pedestal, the only probable object it could hold would be a scroll."

The thief said, crossing his arms.

"A scroll?"

This piece of new perked Thayran's interest.

"Yes, a scroll. It isn't any typical scroll, however, judging by how well made and sturdy the pedestal was made. The scroll would probably be quite thick and heavy, not to mention having an elaborate design on the handle. Something like this."

Kevex took out a small parchment and a quill and started to draw on it. The drawing was crude but the thief made some important details in it.

"Those handles... they're... dragons?"

Sylvian noticed.

"Exactly. The catches on the pedestal would be used to hold up the scroll and since the pedestal was made from stone, time mixed with the air and moisture of the hall would eventually erode the catches into the shape of the handles of the scroll. The handles can most likely keep their shape if they were something special and meant for the Dragon worshippers. Or for the dragons themselves."

"Hmph, for a guy who only thinks about money, that's pretty impressive."

Thayran snorted, crossing her arms.

"It's because I only think about money that I've reach where I am today. All of this is due to my experience as a thief."

Kevex proudly said though no one could really say the same. At the point, the door of the house the shed was attached to opened and a tall and well built Orc stepped out. Wiping his hands on the cloth that hung by his belt, he turned to the group who stood around in his shed.

"Oh, are you guys done with your conversation? I just finished making dinner, so why don't you all come on in?"

The Orc said with a smile.

"Sorry to impose upon you, Orgranar."

Sigfrid sighed, walking over to the Orc.

"It's nothing. You guys helped me out many times in the past and also have patronized my shop thousands of times. The least I can do is cook a little something. Now come on in before the food gets cold... say, did a storm just blow past just now?"

The Orc asked and all in the group merely looked towards Thayran, who did not bother with the death stares of blame and walked off into the house.

"Hm? Did I miss something?"

Orgranar asked.

"... It's nothing."

The group walked into the house and came to see a large feast laid out on the table before them. Organar's two storey house was not large by any means but he had just enough space for the group to sit down at the table, albeit being a little tight on space.

"Hey! Stop poking my butt with your sword!"

"You're sitting on my leg!"

"Move a little, can't you? There's space next to Alexia!"

"She's already sleeping!"

"Keep your damn grimoire away! It's taking up too much space!"

"Then why don't you keep your damn axe away! Who in the name of Oblivion carries an axe to the dinner table? !"

"It's Nord custom to bring your souls, and by extension your weapons, to the dinner table!"

"You're only bringing customs into this for your own convenience!"

With the group being this noisy, it would be a wonder how the local patrol would not try to enter the house to investigate. But then again, the local guards rarely, if ever, enter someone else's house. Besides, Orgranar didn't mind. It was always better to have a noisy house than a quiet one. As the group finally settled into the meal, the conversations changed directions.

"As usual, your cooking looks like something out a swamp Hagraven's grave, but it sure tastes good."

Sigfrid smiled, draining his bowl of the stew it was filled with.

"That's no way to compliment someone who is cooking our meal."

Thayran muttered but Orgranar merely laughed.

"Hahaha! No no, that's fine! I'm aware of the fact more so than anyone else. But as long as it's enjoyable, it's all good for me!"

The Orc laughed whole heartedly.

"So, have you found the 'Gourmet' yet? I heard that he's your idol, right?"

Kevex asked. At that, Alexia opened one eye under her hood.

"Hmm... yes, but it seems he left Skyrim already. Oh well, I guess it's unfortunate but it cannot be helped."

The Orc sighed.

"..."

Alexia stayed silent, closing her eyes once more.

"Well, enough about that. If you lot have come to visit me, then that means you need something, am I right?"

Orgranar changed the subject, turning to the group. At this, the group stopped eating and faced the Orc.

"Orgranar... we need stronger weapons."

Sigfrid said. Orgranar looked at how serious they all were and put his spoon down onto the table.

"... I figured that would be the case when you lot came into town looking like you went through Oblivion and back."

The Orc stood up from the table and walked to the side where he took down a dirt brown blacksmith's apron and donned it.

"So... just how strong are we talking about here?"

* * *

Hammering away on his anvil, Orgranar pounded the metal in shape.

"Ebony weapons may take quite some time, especially since I do not have a whole lot of ore to work with."

Orgranar said, wiping the sweat from his brow as he pulled the rope to the bellows to blow more air into the flames, making it fiercer.

"Even with the amount we brought you?"

Sigfrid asked.

"Well, you guys didn't bring me a whole lot in the first place. Refining the ore would take away a large portion of the volume just to make them into ingots to use."

Orgranar explained, heating up the metal before pounding at it again.

"Well, good thing that some of us here don't need to use metal."

Thayran smirked.

"But you still need supplies, don't you? Besides, your tunic and cloak needs mending."

Orgranar asked, eyeing the way the party was dressed. Orgranar was well known for a few things. For one, his abilities as a blacksmith were quite high. While not as good as Eorlund Greymane, he was still a prideful Orc who took his work seriously. Orgranar was also well known his cooking, which many brave adventurers have come forth to taste as a form of 'challenge', as well as his sewing and knitting skills. Orgranar took great pride in the clothes he sews, even more so than his metal work, and his clothes are greatly sought after by women from all over. Strange that he is an Orc though.

"... Alright, fine. Besides, it looks like Sylvian may take some time on her own."

Thayran noted that the elf had taken a whole large stack of wood, sat down at one corner and began making her own arrows.

"I seriously did not believe you could make your own arrows till I saw her do it."

Kevex admitted.

"What, did you think that arrows sprouted from trees?"

"No, it's just you would only see arrows being sold at stores. I've never seen anyone actually make one."

"He might have a point there."

Orgranar said, hammering away at the metal.

"Up until recently, even I had no idea how they were made until some fletcher finally decided to teach me. Making the arrow tips is quite some work, I can tell you that."

Orgranar laughed, continuing to hammer away. Seriously, look where you swing that.

"But it seems that Sylvian doesn't have a problem with that."

Sigfrid noted the foreign elf's way of making arrows. With a single mould, she placed the wood in it and shaved it into the arrow shaft with a single sharp blade. Taking a few feathers from birds she shot earlier, she tied the feathers to the end of the shaft and tied it with string. She did such steps with ease and speed that she was easily making a hundred by the end of an hour. An impossible task for a normal fletcher. The only thing she couldn't make quickly, were the metal arrow tips. Orgranar had melted steel down for her and she carefully poured the mixture into moulds for the arrow tips. Once the metal had hardened slightly, she dropped them into a bucket of water to quickly cool down the metal and harden it. Once cooled, she polished the arrow tips and attached them onto the other end of the arrow shafts, thereby creating a whole arrow and slotting them into her quiver.

"... She's scary when she focuses like that."

Sigfrid muttered.

"Hmm, something new to write about."

Thayran smirked, opening her grimoire and scribbling more notes. Of their leader, he silently stood there, keeping an eye on the elf. He showed no emotion nor any hint of thought. But that was his usual expression. It did not escape the others, however, that their leader was in fact observing the elf.


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: Ah, what better way to get a powerful warrior to appear weird... than to make them lost constantly. I took it from a Japanese comic book, actually, though the comic itself is not well-known at all. In fact, I don't know how it managed to get four volumes out. It isn't bad, rather it is very funny, but it doesn't stand out at all so... yeah, how?

* * *

**Skyrim Adventures**

**Chapter 9**

**Pointing the wrong way**

Dragging herself into town, she wiped her brow and looked for any signs of a blacksmith. It wasn't long before her ears picked up the faint sounds of metal being hammered away. She looked down at her worn out weapon and wondered why didn't she think about getting a better blade sooner? If she knew that she would run into some trolls along the way, she might have packed more weapons to bring along. But then again, just how many weapons can she bring? Never mind about that, what she needed now was a blacksmith to fix her sword.

It was broken in two when she tried to strike a wolf down but she missed, ending up hitting a large stone. Just how unlucky could she get? In the heat of battle, she would really lose sense of her surroundings. Then again, she never had a sense of her surroundings in the first place. She finally reached the blacksmith but noticed it was rather crowded. Was it really popular to get this many customers? She dragged herself closer.

"Pardon me? Is the blacksmith available?"

She asked, making the people at the shop turn. The people, however, were something she did not expect. The following is the list of reactions from the various people present

"Ah."

"Ah."

"Ah."

"Ah."

"..."

"..."

"This is really good metal."

"YOU!"

She dropped all of her belongings and drew out her second sword.

"You guys! You will pay for what you have done!"

The people all looked to one another with slight confusion before the large Nord man at the entrance turned back to her.

"Look, you got lost yourself, Akbiran. Besides, it's not like we asked you to join us in the first place."

He said, making her even more infuriated.

"But you did not have to abandon me!"

"We did not 'abandon' you. You took a left turn when we clearly took a right."

The small sized girl with the large grimoire said, putting down her quill.

"I don't even understand how you can get those two mixed up in the first place. You were right behind us the entire time and the next moment you disappeared."

"You could have searched for me!"

"We did."

The dark elf of the group spoke up, taking a bite out from an apple.

"We searched the entire road for at least three hours but you simply disappeared. Even our little tracker of a ranger here could not find a trace of you."

The dark elf pointed to a peculiar elf who was sitting at the back of the hut, shaping arrows with her little knife.

"It's like you suddenly disappeared into thin air, or maybe you were teleported?"

"Nobody can teleport without the help of large runes or incredibly powerful magick."

The little girl pointed out.

"Then how can she disappear on us like that? Daedric?"

"No... just... your natural born ability to get lost, Akbiran, that's all."

The little girl said with such a straight face that it wasn't laughable. She knew herself well. She was not the best when it came to directions. She did not know the difference between a map and a shopping list for the grocer. If anything, it was a miracle she could even make it to town but she was adamant about her quest. And that quest was to defeat this group of people who had gathered in this hut at the moment. Maybe not the blacksmith. She doesn't know him anyway.

"That's besides the point! I will defeat all of you!"

She restated her mission, making all of the people in the hut sigh.

"In that condition? You better rest for the night first."

The large Nord man said.

"I don't need your pity! And besides, how can I know you won't disappear in the morning? !"

"I think the only thing you need to worry is if you can find your way to the inn in the first place."

The small girl muttered sarcastically.

"But anyway, we won't be leaving here until Orgranar finishes our weapons and armour. It may take till the next day to complete them all."

"Or it may take just a second."

The Orc blacksmith said as he took a piece of metal and placed it into the water, cooling it down and taking out a single ebony blade.

"... It really took one second."

The dark elf muttered.

"Anyway, you came all this way for something, am I right?"

The blacksmith turned to her. She blanked out for a second before she remembered what she wanted.

"A-ah yes! I came to request that you repair my sword weapons!"

She said, pulling out a whole bag of broken metal swords and armour. The moment the group saw the state of her weapons, they all stared at her with eyes of pity.

"... Akbiran... how did you manage to break all of your weapons?"

The Nord asked.

"I-it couldn't be helped! They just broke, alright? !"

"Weapons don't 'just' break, Akbiran. In fact, I've never heard of weapons breaking before. Well, not in this World anyway."

The small girl pointed out.

"What do you mean 'not in this World'?"

"Don't try to think too much about it. Your brain would probably melt itself trying to comprehend its meaning."

She told the dark elf when he asked.

"But there are some broken weapons. Wasn't there a dagger or some sorts that was broken into different pieces?"

The large Nord pointed out.

"Those were broken on purpose, not accidentally, and had some meaning to it... like I said, it's pointless to try to think too much into it."

The little girl sighed, shaking her head.

"Anyway, back to you, Akbiran, the whole point of you following us is so that you can challenge us whenever you like... but before even thinking you can follow us, do you even have the ability to stand up to us?"

The girl asked the most important question. By now, she could sense the eyes of every one of the group members. They were strong, very strong. Each of them standing at the pinnacle of their skills, the height of their respective lives, the masters of their crafts. They were leaders in their own rights, amassing respect, command and power to control powerful factions in Skyrim. Their gazes suddenly felt too heavy to bear. She swallowed hard. She had trained hard to fight people like them. She may have lost constantly in the past, but she had decided to follow them, learn how they fought and train herself to stand on equal ground to them. Certainly she had gotten lost every single time and was separated from them, but in getting lost she would fight against near impossible odds to better herself and by some luck, she would always meet them once more in some town or city somewhere. She knew it was her destiny to fight these people, and so she will fight.

"... I will... sooner or later."

Was her reply. The little girl kept her gaze before sighing.

"Well, that 'sooner or later' better be 'sooner'."

"Huh? What do you mean?"

"... Nothing."

The girl waved it off, getting up to her feet and keeping her grimoire.

"Better get some rest, Akbiran. When tomorrow comes, we will be leaving this town for Winterhold."

* * *

Upon the break of dawn, the group assembled outside of the inn, though it became apparent that someone was missing. Again.

"Again?"

The dark elf raised an eyebrow in disbelief.

"I've checked her room already. It seems she had left quite some time ago."

The large Nord replied.

"This is beyond the level of 'getting lost'. Are you sure she isn't simply 'teleporting' somewhere?"

"I'm sure."

The little girl sighed.

"So what was the point of getting her to follow us in the first place?"

"She is like a weapons expert, having trained and seen many types of weapons in Tamriel She did save your hide twice before, if you remember."

The dark elf had nothing to say in response to that.

"... It seems she left this."

The foreign elf took out a small bag. The small girl took the bag and looked inside, her eyes widening the moment she saw its contents.

"This is... Hmm, that girl has other uses as well. These will definitely help us when we're up against the World Eater."

* * *

She stepped out of the small cave in the mountains and looked around. The large valley down below was quite some distance and the giants and their mammoth herd looked small from this distance. The distant town of Whiterun stood out at one corner. Perhaps she should head there to gather supplies. But the more important question to her at this moment was-

"... How in Oblivion's name did I get here?"


End file.
